


Darkness Calling

by PriestessKhu



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Author-insert, Bipolar Disorder, Depression, F/M, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Kemetic gods, Mentions of Mental Illness, More tags later, Self-Insert, Slow Build, Slow Burn, eventual mentions of childhood molestation, pagan kemeticism, possible PTSD, potential relationship with psychopath, the evil within - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 23:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 76,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12264426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PriestessKhu/pseuds/PriestessKhu
Summary: A young woman finds herself becoming entangled in a living nightmare that relentlessly taunts the edges of her sanity after being transferred to a mental hospital far from her home  under suspicious circumstances. When her mind’s access of certain aspects of STEM, despite an innate resistance to the system, eliminates any hopes of escape, she realizes that the cryptic warning given to her by a dark, hooded man has come far too late.Jasmine must now open the floodgates to travel through the twisted temptations of Ruvik and his world while facing the darkness within herself if she ever hopes to find the answers needed to get free of Beacon and Mobius’ grasp--before it all collapses into nothing.The question is: will she still make the right decision if she does?





	1. Beginning Of The End

**Author's Note:**

> As a form of self-therapy, I decided to write about the darker aspects of my mental illness and life. Of course, what better way to get into the nitty gritty of your own mind than with The Evil Within as the setting?
> 
> Yes, this is a self-insert of a slightly younger version of myself (when I was still having my cutting problem), but I'm not really expecting to have a relationship develop with Ruvik no matter how I adore the homicidal dickbag. If it DOES happen, however, don't expect it to be healthy. He's a psychopath, after all.
> 
> I fully plan to have things get pretty dark in this story as well, so will be adding the appropriate tags as things go along if needed.

Beacon Mental Hospital...

Jasmine didn't know why she had to be here of all places, and yet this was where she still found herself residing now.

Her room was all but barren, even with the neatly-made bed and what few personal belongings the young woman was allowed to keep with her. One of said belongings she was currently gripping to her chest. The sting of an itchy bandage that was hidden by the clothes she was forced to wear caused her to cling to the teddy bear even tighter in that moment.

It was an attempt to ignore the urge to scratch the self-inflicted wounds; the unbearable need to tear the thin scabs from her abused flesh again. It happened with even the smallest of wounds, but the two self-inflicted cuts on her right hip were perhaps the most annoying. Absentmindedly picking at them was what lead to her mother figuring out that the girl had begun cutting again, after all.

Jasmine had learned that the wrist was too obvious a place, even with bracelets, so took a scissor blade to any area that was easily hidden with panties and sleep bottoms. It seemed like a better option whenever she couldn’t take the pain of being verbally abused by the very woman that still bothered to take care of her, but...

Something as small as that wasn't enough to have landed her here. Even with an emotional overload and temporary breakdown involved, it wasn’t a legitimate reason for pulling her from her home so suddenly and transferring her to a city in another state altogether. Or, at least, that was what Jasmine thought.

She was depressed, bipolar, had a fairly high anxiety level, and was occasionally suicidal; _not_ insane.

With a soft sigh at her own thoughts, Jasmine placed her forehead against the cold glass of the only window in her minuscule room. Her pale blue hues gazed out into the stormy, cloud-covered city from beneath shortened and fairly unkempt darkened ashen blonde locks. Said locks brushed down along the right half of her freckled cheeks and down past her chin to unknowingly accenting the bags Jasmine had under her squinting eyes.

She really wished that they would have at least let her keep her glasses and necklaces in here. The glasses she could admittedly do without, but not having her ankh and the medallion of her patron god left her feeling naked. Vulnerable.

A sudden, shrill scream from one of the other patients situated on her floor caused the young woman to jump much like a doe would while her head shifted in the direction of the door. Jasmine was usually a tense and easily-startled person to begin with, but her anxiety only seemed to have gotten worse since she'd been transferred here the day before last.

This place was far from good and it didn't take a rocket scientist to see that something was off about the building no matter how 'harmless' it seemed at its surface layers. Something terrible lurked here; she could feel it.

Jasmine relaxed a few moments after the initial scream that startled her. There were sounds of the nurses trying to calm the patient, assuming that it was the same person that had just screamed, so that helped her be more at ease when she turned to look back out the window.

A few droplets of rain fell against the thick glass and danced their way downward before her, yet it did little to bring Jasmine out of her gloom. Still, she watched as it began to drizzle within Krimson City whilst thunder rumbled softly both above the hospital and off in the distance.

Never before had Jasmine been so far away from home and as lonely as she was at that moment...

Even in knowing that her patron deity was still there watching over her, she still missed her best friends and even her mother and younger brother; the latter two of which she would often get into violent verbal confrontations with. None of them had come to see her here. They didn't have the money to afford tickets to the various forms of transportation that would bring them to Beacon Hospital. Hell, Jasmine didn't know if her family and friends had even been _told_ that she was transferred elsewhere.

It wouldn't have surprised her if they hadn't been, actually. Her original doctor and insurance company were notorious for dropping the ball on damn near everything these days.

Whatever the case, Jasmine didn't want to be here. She didn’t want to be in some mental hospital in a city she didn’t even know existed before that week. She also couldn’t bother keeping her forehead from audibly landing against the glass as she thought all of this.

It would take ages to try to get transferred back home, if they would even allow it, and just thinking of that alone was enough to awaken her voracious depression. Jasmine’s eyes started to sting and she released a quivering sigh, “Why even bother...?”

“Why even bother...why even...why...why...” A new, unfamiliar voice caused the young woman to jolt slightly and spin around on her heel with a guarded stance. It was probably a comical sight, given how Jasmine now held her teddy bear like a weapon, but she didn’t care.

There was another patient, and they had actually entered her room. That made Jasmine unbelievably uncomfortable. She'd already seen what some of the others here were capable of and could be in some serious trouble if this person was one of them.

The blonde couldn't tell if who she was dealing with was volatile, though. There wasn’t any apparent ill-intent coming from the person shifting uneasily just inside of her doorway.

The patient, Jasmine wasn't sure of their gender, was hunched over. They were shaking and pacing in short, shuffled steps while they kept repeating the words that had alerted Jasmine to their presence in the first place.

Their skin was far paler than her own, hair tussled and white, and eyes puffy and red with their color unknown thanks to the constantly averted gaze and the fact that the blonde wasn’t too fond of making eye contact with people for her own reasons. It was strange for her to watch, honestly. Jasmine didn't quite know how to react either; they were clearly in a state of unrest which could make them dangerous, but...

“Um,” She started, unsure on whether to move closer or not but took a timid step forward as she lowered her teddy bear anyway. Jasmine leaned over a bit, trying to see their face a little at the chance of perhaps being able to read them better and failing. She saw the dried blood stains on their shirt and her eyes widened at the sight as she asked cautiously, “Are...are you okay...?”

Their pacing continued, eyes on the floor and a hand coming up to shake just centimeters away from their head. “Are you okay...are you okay...okay...okay...”

“I'll take that as a no...” Jasmine frowned and stood there. She should probably call one of the nurses in to get this one, but would raising her voice set this kid off? This place was far more stressful than she believed she could manage to handle much longer.

“Okay...okay...not okay...not okay...help...help, help, help...!” The patient muttered, voice cracking faintly as panic seemed imminent. Jasmine paused to furrow her eyebrows while she continued to observe their behavior. So they could speak without simply repeating what those around them said, but they were also asking her for help and she could feel her heartstrings tugging. There was no way Jasmine could call a nurse to come and get them now; the staff obviously didn’t care if this kid was going around with bloodstains on their shirt.

“I don’t know how to help,” She admitted softly and placed her teddy bear on her bed before tentatively taking a few more steps toward her guest with her hands up. They hadn’t tried to hurt her so far, so this much might be safe if they really wanted some assistance of some sort. “You’ll have to tell me what to do...is that alright...?”

A gasp left Jasmine’s lips when her fellow patient shuffled the distance between them and actually placed their forehead on her shoulder. Their entire body was quivering, voice against her shirt barely a whisper, “We can’t escape him... _we can’t escape him_...!”

“There you are, Leslie. What have I told you about going off on your own?” Another voice, this time belonging to a doctor that entered her room as well, had filled the air right as Jasmine was lifting a hand with the intent of perhaps placing it on the frightened being’s head.

Said doctor looked around after placing a hand on each of this Leslie person's arms as if to lead them away from the young woman, only to pause when his gaze landed on Jasmine. He seemed surprised to see just how close she was to the other patient, but tried to hide it, “Oh, I'm sorry; he wandered off when I was talking to one of the nurses. He's harmless though, so you don't have to worry.”

“Have to worry...have to worry...have to worry...!” The kid was repeating words again and the blonde couldn’t help feeling sorry for who she now knew was a him of some sort. This caused her to frown softly as she watched Leslie being forced to shuffle away from her. It didn’t seem like he wanted to go, really.

“I'm more worried about him at the moment. Is this normal...?” Jasmine motioned her head at Leslie, who was now shaking his own head and trying to pace once more. The doctor's grip on him prevented this, which didn't seem to help the poor boy's state of being. It was obvious by Leslie's bruises and dirty clothing that the staff here weren't exactly the best caretakers with him, so it was no wonder he was so messed up even now that his doctor was right next to him.

“Well, 'normal' isn't exactly why people come here. For Leslie though, I suppose you could consider this normal behavior, yes.” The far older male paused once more as if he seemed to realize something and held his hand out with a smile. “Oh, do forgive my manners. I am Doctor Marcelo Jimenez, the Director of this establishment.”

A chill ran along Jasmine's spine when the hand was offered, her gut twisting in knots just from Dr. Jimenez's smile. It was a mental red flag; something the young woman would get often when she sensed something off about a person with what her family considered empathic abilities. The fact he was standing so close made it easier to physically read him without her glasses, as well.

Subconsciously using her latent ability, Jasmine knew that there was most certainly something off about the doctor standing in front of her.

“...Jasmine.” She replied somewhat stiffly, glancing to Dr. Jimenez's hand warily. Jasmine didn't know if he was two-faced, a chronic liar, or simply just a dangerous person, but she honestly hoped she wouldn't be finding out what was wrong with the doctor first-hand.

To be in a place she'd never heard of before was one thing, but it having so many people that had her in a near-constant state bordering fight or flight was exhausting. There was no telling what would happen to her the moment she let her guard down here.

Dr. Jimenez didn't outwardly seem at all bothered by the fact the young woman before him so blatantly refused to shake his hand and simply smiled, “Oh, yes, you must be my new patient! I'm sorry we weren't able to meet under better circumstances, but such is life. Our first official session is scheduled for tomorrow, so I will see you then; if not around dinner tonight.”

Jasmine would have said she was looking forward to it, but that would have been a blatant lie that the young woman didn't have the energy to follow through with. Instead, she simply gave a quiet nod while Leslie had begun his fidgeting again at the doctor's side and brought her attention back to his hunched form.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you later too then, Leslie...?” She asked gently to the young man, but all he did was mumble something she couldn’t make out while faintly nodding his head. He was still uneasy about something and Jimenez lead Leslie out of the room without so much as a final farewell.

Perhaps the doctor was in a hurry. Whatever the reason for his swift departure with the boy, Jasmine vowed to keep an eye out for her new doctor. He was up to something, and on top of that; she was remembering what Leslie whispered to her just before Jimenez came in. The young woman couldn’t help but shudder.

‘We can’t escape him’? Yeah, _that_ wasn’t fucking ominous.

Jasmine was quick to crawl onto her bed and pull her stuffed bear to her chest in an unrelenting embrace. Even when the suddenness of the action was enough to cause a sharp pain to shoot along the inside of her ribcage worse than it had so far that day, the blonde couldn’t bring herself to loosen her hold on the old toy. It was a clear warning from her still-healing pleurisy with each sting to her quickened breaths, but her racing heart and mind had little room for concern about such a thing.

All Jasmine wanted to do was go home; this place was seeming to become darker the longer she stayed. It was suffocating and most certainly beginning to feel like Beacon Metal Hospital really would be the death of her. Would she ever get to see her friends and family again...?

Time passed slowly, Jasmine having dozed off at some point while curled into a ball on top of her small bed. There was no telling how long the young woman had been napping before a nurse came in and practically shouted her awake.

“Jasmine!” He bellowed into the small room, causing her to gasp and bolt awake with a fist at the ready to punch at whoever was nearby out of sheer instinct. Once the nurse saw that she was finally up, he huffed and motioned over his shoulder, “Get your ass moving, kid. It’s time for vitals check and then dinner.”

“Okay...” She let out a squeaked yawn while sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The floor was freezing against her bare feet, causing Jasmine to search for her slippers in her groggy state. They were nowhere to be found and she frowned as she kept her teddy bear tucked close.

Did someone take the slippers while she was sleeping? She prayed they hadn’t, but a good majority of the patients were unattended 90% of the time during the day, so it was feasible. If anyone had come in, they thankfully left her alone, though. Jasmine would have woken up if anyone tried to touch her.

...She hoped.

The nurse snorted with disdain upon seeing the blonde trying not to panic over something as small as ratty slippers, turning away with disgust clear in his behavior, “Don’t fall back asleep or I’ll have you _and_ that damn bear hosed down.”

Jasmine couldn’t keep from frowning with despondency at this and held Donnie closer to her while she curled around the teddy bear. No one cared in this place, that much was certain. Would she end up like Leslie and the other patients if she continued to stay here...?

“Miss Summers?” Jasmine jumped with a squeak when a voice came from beside her, along with a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was Dr. Jimenez, the last person she wanted to see, but it wasn’t like she had much of a choice of avoiding him in this asylum-esque hellhole.

“...Dr. Jimenez,” She greeted and tried to shrug her shoulder from his grasp. He got the gist that she was uncomfortable with being touched and pulled the offending limb back, but was still focused on the blonde when she asked, “I thought my session wasn’t until tomorrow?” Which roughly translated into ‘ _I don’t like you, why the hell are you here?_ ’.

“It was, but some things have come up. I was wondering if you would be willing to have the session after supper, since we need to get your information into the system as soon as possible and it may be another day or two until I’m free enough to do so.” He explained while one of the nurses finally got around to checking the young woman’s vitals.

Jasmine flinched at the shock of pain coming from her tender arm when the blood pressure cuff was slipped on and began to inflate. It was a sensation akin to what the young woman suspected having one’s arm crushed felt like. Jimenez noticed this and raised his eyebrows.

“Your file has mentioned that you have fibromyalgia. It’s bad today, I presume?” A motion to the cuff and arm quivering in pain got him a nod.

“Yeah...I also have a blood disorder, not that your nurse Todd out there actually listens to what I have to say. It’s why I bruise really easily sometimes.” Jasmine said bitterly as the cuff was finally pulled away and her temperature was checked via an electric thermometer in the ear. Once the female nurse had jotted down the results, she moved on to the next patient, thus leaving the two to converse undisturbed once more.

Well, at least until one of the other patients let out a blood-curdling banshee of a screech that made Jasmine jump damn near thirty feet out of her skin with a sharp yelp. Jimenez observed this, nodding to himself after a moment when he still hadn’t gotten her answer about changing the session time, “It’s decided, then. One of the nurses will bring you to my office once you finish eating. We can discuss your problems better there, and I’ll see about getting you some medication for anxiety. You appear to need it.”

“Thank you, doctor...” Jasmine managed to get out while she tried to slow her poor, overworked heart down once more. She did a fairly good job of not blurting out ‘no shit, Sherlock’ instead of the thank you, glad to see him turning in preparation of leaving the room.

“Good. I will see you soon. Be sure to eat all of your food.” With those last couple of short sentences, he was gone again. Jasmine felt herself finally relax a bit and sighed while putting a hand to her head. She could feel a headache coming on, but at least she wouldn’t have to see the doctor for a while if she just got the session, which was really just a fancier way of saying appointment, over with.

When her tray of food was brought to her, Jasmine didn’t have much of an appetite. The fact the crap they fed them looked like it was processed dog barf next to a moldy baloney sandwich didn’t help matters. She couldn’t help but scrunch her nose up while her stomach churned at the sight, “Ugh...”

In the end, all the young woman could manage to stomach was the misshapen and stale dinner roll. She washed it down with the unusually fresh, small carton of milk and waited for one of the staff to fetch her for her appointment. She just hoped that it wasn’t going to be Todd again; he always would grab her by the arm violently and shove her about whenever he had to take her somewhere.

Soon enough, one of the female nurses came into Jasmine’s room and led her down the long hallways to where Dr. Jimenez's office was. She even let her bring her teddy bear with her, but didn’t say more than telling the blonde to follow closely. Jasmine just opted to stay quiet, too.

“Ah, Miss Summers; welcome. I apologize again for the sudden schedule change,” The doctor greeted her when she stepped into the large room. It was mostly full of shelves along the wall lined with thick books and, of course, there was the desk that the older male was seated at in the center of the room. He motioned to the chairs in front of the desk when Jasmine stood there uncertainly. “Have a seat, please.”

The door closed behind Jasmine and she cautiously moved to ease herself down onto the nearest chair. She held Donnie close to her, focusing her gaze on the blurry image of Jimenez’s chin while keeping her silence. Never in her life did the girl think that she would miss her glasses as much as she did when being unable to make out the minute details of the strangers here.

It made reading someone harder than usual, and that could be dangerous for her.

“How are you feeling?” Jimenez started off as he sorted out the papers stacked in front of him and pulled out a file from within his desk. Upon opening the file, slipping on a pair of reading glasses, and picking up his pen, he looked up at the young woman while waiting for her reply.

“...Tired.” Jasmine forced herself to mutter. It wasn’t a lie, and it was short and simple. All she had to do was get this paperwork appointment out of the way and then she could go back to sulking in her room. Plotting escape while doing so seemed like a good idea too, but she still wasn’t currently physically healthy enough to attempt it. Not yet, anyway.

The doctor’s contemplating hum brought her out of mentally cursing her body for being so weak, him flipping through the papers of the file. Jimenez was skimming the words on the pages, eyebrows rising higher up the wrinkles of his forehead as he went on before finally coming back to the front of the file and looking up. He relaxed his expression when he did, as if trying to cover up whatever surprise he’d experienced from her cautious gaze.

He tapped the page of the file with his fingers in thought and saw the girl flinch faintly from the sudden sound. Jasmine was still refusing to make eye contact with him, though she appeared to at least try one or two times since arriving. Even with the clear anxiety, she wasn’t as bad a case as the others within the hospital and they both knew this, but Jimenez continued as he would for any other patient or guardian of one. “It says here that you suffer from random bouts of insomnia, and have done so since you were twelve?”

“Yeah, but I think I just mostly sleep a lot these days. Probably due to my depression even though I don’t sleep well when I manage to. My doctor says the medications are working exactly the same, but I’m not really convinced about that,” Jasmine grimaced as she absently played with her teddy bear’s worn fur. “He’s actually just a _nutritionist_ nurse practitioner that was the only person they could find for the job, and he sucks at it. A lot.”

“An increased urge to sleep isn’t all too uncommon in those suffering from clinical depression. You’ve been diagnosed with a bipolar disorder as well, I see.” Jimenez ignored the extra information, but jotted something down in the file. Jasmine couldn’t help but feel confused at this; no doctor she’d met up to this point had done that. Not even her incompetent N.P. ignored information so blatantly.

She could feel her stomach begin to churn in an uneasiness that was hard to pass off as simply her nerves. Her gut feeling was telling her that Jimenez was a part of the darkness surrounding Beacon Mental Hospital, but it also warned her not to let him know that she could sense this.

Jasmine tried to appear annoyed, rather than panicked, instead and attempted to stop the racing of her heart while forcing a soft scoff, “ _Tentatively_ diagnosed with bipolar two.”

“When did your mental illness start? In childhood?” Jimenez didn’t notice how the blonde placed a hand to her chest. He seemed more preoccupied with other things; something that wasn’t just getting information from Jasmine to put into their system and better flesh out her files and mental health history.

A part of the girl was thankful for at least that much. If he was distracted, then he wouldn’t take note of the finer details in her behavior that could give away her fear. If he saw anything at all, then Jimenez would likely brush it off as more signs of anxiety.

“No, it was in my mid to late teens,” Jasmine answered his inquiry after a tiny moment of unintentional silence. The doctor was still too distracted and didn’t acknowledge it, so she continued, “It just got worse when I turned sixteen and I didn’t get help until I was eighteen. I felt like some sort of wild animal, and I just...I never wanted to be like that again. I’m not that kind of person.” The blonde had to pause at her own words.

She wasn’t that kind of person. Or, at least, Jasmine desperately tried _not_ to be...

“Ages sixteen to eighteen.” The doctor gave a slight hum and locked his gaze onto the girl. He folded his hands neatly over the file before asking, “Is that when you nearly choked your brother into unconsciousness on the sofa one night?”

Jasmine bristled upon hearing those words and she swore that she felt the pain of her heart practically stopping.

Jimenez shouldn’t have known that. He _couldn’t_ know that; only Jasmine, her brother, her two friends, and her mother knew. It was the first time her younger sibling ever called her a monster, but he also never told anyone other than their mother in the hopes that she could protect him from his volatile sister.

On top of that, Jasmine never told any of her doctors or even therapists, so this jackass shouldn’t have known a damn thing about it. No one outside of her family and best friends should have even been remotely aware of the event, unless...

Did someone sell her out...? Was that the reason she’d been sent here?

“ _That_...was before I got help.” Jasmine couldn’t help but become defensive about the current topic. The guilt she still felt from all of the horrible things she did and said to her brother and a number of other people in those three blurred years of unmedicated hell aside, the blonde was pissed. Her temper was beginning to rear it’s ugly head no matter how hard she tried to keep it in check.

She didn’t know if it was how Jimenez's tone seemed almost threatening, or the fact that he simply knew about such a thing to begin with, but she finally lifted her gaze to look the doctor dead in the eye. Jasmine’s visage was one of pure ire.

“Now now, no need to look at me like that. This is all mandatory questions for your information so I know what to do in order to help you.” Jimenez tried to calm her down, but she saw him glance to the phone to make sure it was close enough. He was more than likely checking that he had it within reach to call a nurse with a sedative should she decide to attack him.

Contrary to what he was obviously thinking, Jasmine continued to stare unblinkingly as she was unable to resist calling him out on his suspiciously sloppy work.

She’d been through paperwork and personal information filing before on numerous occasions, and he was forgetting some rather critical questions. Her tone was low, but biting: “If this is so mandatory, then why haven’t you asked about my suicidal tendencies or the sensory overload episodes I’ve been having? I started cutting again too, and yet you didn’t mention _that_ either. One would think that would be pretty important for dealing with someone who suffers from clinical depression as harshly as I do.”

Jimenez immediately appeared taken aback, almost as if he wasn’t expecting the girl to be so rehearsed and capable enough to know exactly how this went. Still, he was quick to hide this fact and cleared his throat.

“I was just getting to that.” He stated and was trying not to let whatever it was about her that threw him for a loop keep him distracted. Jasmine could sense this and, despite her gut warning her not to do anything to make her a potential target, didn’t stop there.

“You should know that none of your staff have taken down my emergency information or gone through the proper paperwork, either. Nothing for potential allergies, family and personal physical and mental health histories, emergency contacts,” She paused in listing everything they legally neglected to do just to see the doctor’s reaction. He was managing to keep composed, but Jasmine could tell that he knew she had him cornered on this paperwork matter. The few beads of sweat collecting on his brow gave him away.

“Well now, it would seem that someone is severely slacking in their work. I will have that fixed as soon as possible. Let’s see...” Jimenez played along with what he considered her petty little need for ‘proper paperwork’, trailing off as he opened and sifted through a file cabinet directly behind his chair. After a few seconds, he pulled a stack of unfilled papers out and grabbed a clipboard from atop the cabinet, “Here we are. Can I trust you with a pen, Miss Summers?”

“I’m _suicidal_ on and off, not _homicidal_ , so yes.” Jasmine fell silent as she remembered recently wanting to carve her younger brother’s throat open with a pen shortly before having an overload episode and being taken from her home. It happened often whenever he began to act like an entitled little prat, but she never actually went through with the violent urges. Yes, as badly as she wanted to, Jasmine never hurt her sibling. She _wasn’t_ that kind of person anymore.

Part of her cutting problem wasn’t just dealing with the occasional verbal abuse from her mother, but also keeping herself from harming others. If she took the frustration out on herself, then the people around her could remain safe.

Jasmine kept this to herself for the time being and accepted the offered clipboard and pen. Thankfully it was the proper papers, as a brief flip through the pages proved, and she went to work filling the small pile out with Jimenez watching her almost thoughtfully. It was a little disconcerting, but he _was_ a doctor.

A doctor that made her skin crawl.

“Don’t worry about dating each paper. I will do that once our session is over.” Jimenez instructed as he continued to observe her. Jasmine glanced up with her fallen bangs mostly hiding the action, frowning deeply upon confirming the suspicion that he hadn’t stopped watching her. She should have kept her damn mouth shut after all.

“Right...” Jasmine somehow managed to utter without appearing too unnerved. She had to congratulate herself on that one, because it was not an easy feat when someone was staring so blatantly at her. Doctor or not, she never was fond of being looked at by anyone.

The appointment went exactly how it should have all along from that point on. In fact, Jimenez was doing and asking everything a little _too_ perfectly.

It was almost like it was some one-sided script that was directed towards her, and he was not a very convincing actor. He probably would have been to most people, but it couldn’t fool an empath’s mental alarm system; not even one as untrained as Jasmine was. Her distrust of the man before her only grew when everything fell into order after she called Jimenez out on his mistakes.

The questions and paperwork continued for what must have been an hour before a nurse was called in to take Jasmine back to her room once all was said and done. Jimenez even smiled at the girl as she stood from the chair and set the clipboard and pen on the edge of his desk.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Summers. Hopefully our next session will go much more smoothly now that all of the paperwork is out of the way.” He watched her give a faint nod, though she couldn’t say anything due to his phone ringing before she could bother to try. Jasmine, as usual, jolted with a gasp from the sudden sound.

Jimenez raised his eyebrows and made a mental note to, indeed, add an anxiety prescription to her daily medicine regimen while he answered the phone, “Beacon Mental Hospital, this is Director Jimenez speaking.”

Jasmine, on the other hand, was annoyed with her reaction to something as small as a freaking _phone ringing_ , but she knew it wasn’t exactly something that she could have complete control over on her own. It was due to cursing her frantic heart that she almost missed the look of fear that overcame the doctor’s face after the person on the other side of the line spoke.

“Ah, Executive Administrator! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.” He was quick to turn the chair around so the back faced the door. This made Jasmine curious now, having seen just how much Jimenez began to sweat in a matter of seconds. So this guy _was_ afraid of something. That information was extremely useful, or it could become so in the future.

“This way, please.” The nurse urged from the doorway and the girl was quick to follow. While her new doctor was most certainly not someone to be trusted, it was good to know that he could feel fear. She could hopefully use that if the time ever came when she would need to defend herself from Jimenez.

Jasmine was well acquainted with fear, to the point where it almost drove her insane before she got treatment for her mental illnesses. Fear and rage were a potent combination, but if one triggered fear in an opponent before anything else, then it provided a brief upper hand. Then you could attack or flee while the other’s brain decided on a fight or flight response.

Being led through the halls in silence once more allowed Jasmine to glance at her nails. They weren’t too long, but it would be enough for her to physically defend herself with more than biting and what little she could remember from taking karate classes in her early teens.

“Here we are,” The nurse voice pierced through the blonde’s thoughts while opening her bedroom door for her and stepping to the side. “Curfew is in ten minutes, so one of the other nurses will be coming around to lock up tonight. Brush your teeth before that and get settled in bed for the night.”

“Okay.” Jasmine nodded as she went into her room and set Donnie down on the bed before approaching the mirrorless sink against the opposite wall. She picked up the small ziplock bag holding her toothbrush and a tiny tube of paste, getting to work on finishing up before it would be taken out of her room for curfew.

“If you can’t sleep at all, then just let one of the staff know when they make their rounds.” It was something Jasmine often heard thanks to her occasional insomnia issues, but there was no way in hell that she was going to give them an excuse to sedate her.

She kept those particular thoughts to herself and merely nodded once more when she replied around her toothbrush and mouthful of frothy paste, “Mn’kh.”

The nurse left with that, letting the girl finish up and crawl into bed on her own. Jasmine moved to her stomach to peer out at the night sky, though only saw storm clouds. She wouldn’t be able to see the milky way tonight as well, she guessed. It wasn’t unusual for the monsoon season, but the thought had her frowning into the cheap, flat pillow they expected her to sleep on. Sleep that she wasn’t having any real hopes in getting tonight after everything that had been going on.

Surprisingly enough, however, Jasmine could feel her eyelids growing heavy once she got as comfortable as she could manage.

The sensation of oncoming slumber was greatly welcomed despite lingering fear of not being aware of her surroundings while she was asleep. Jasmine exhaled slowly as she felt her body relax, one arm draped over her teddy bear while the other was bent up to brace her head from beneath the pillow. It wasn’t too cold in her room thankfully, so she only had the sheets resting around her thick waist while she lay on her side.

Everything was quiet compared to how noisy the hospital usually was during the day. There were no screaming patients or nasty day-shift nurses; just the gentle sound of a drizzle outside the window and the distant sound of what could have been a coyote howling before the squeak of a cart and jingling keys drown it out from her mind.

Jasmine barely acknowledged the fact that the latter of the only sounds other than her own breathing was probably a nurse. She was drifting off far too quickly to care about anything longer than a fleeting thought that was drown out with mental images of home. Her current small home on the edge of the countryside, the large house of her maternal grandparents that she spent most of her childhood before the two divorced...

These saddened, but lulling memories calling the girl away were cut short when a sharp jab of pain came from one of her arms.

The sensation snapped Jasmine back into full consciousness within seconds. Her first instinct was to lash out at whatever caused the burning ache now under the skin of her right upper arm, but she found that her wrist was being held into place on the bed to prevent her from jerking it about. That caused panic to begin to set in and the blonde prepared to fight off whoever had her in their clutches.

“Relax. I’m already finished.” The nurse holding the limb down said as she pulled the long needle of a syringe out of Jasmine’s arm. It was hard to see exactly who it was in the darkness of the room, but the woman discarding the empty medical device into a biohazard bin on the cart was dressed like a nurse. She swiped the injection site with an alcohol swab a final time without much care to how the patient she technically just assaulted was reacting.

Jasmine wrenched her arm out of the other woman’s grasp as she sat up and pressed herself back against the wall. Her chest was starting to tighten and heave in warning of an oncoming anxiety attack while her mind rushed with all of the things that she could have just had shot right into her system. She had to know, demanding in a quivering and distrustful voice, “What the hell did you just inject me with...!?”

“Just a little something for your anxiety,” The nurse, who appeared to have dark hair pulled back in either a bun or ponytail and thick-framed glasses from what Jasmine could barely make out, explained. Her tone was flat, as if she hadn’t just given a shot to a sleeping patient, and she went about collecting the girl’s dental hygiene bag while continuing, “Dr. Jimenez ordered it before he left. I was going to wait until morning to give you the shot, but you were making such awful sounds in your sleep that I decided it would be best just to do it now so I don't have to wake you early in the morning.”

“You could have just woken me up _anyway_...” Jasmine scoffed and groped around blindly, not taking her eyes off of the nurse she didn’t recognize. She pulled Donnie closer once feeling the worn cloth of his arm beneath her trembling fingers and held him to her chest with her legs pulled up, watching the other woman cautiously. She was beginning to get lightheaded from her heart racing so fast and offsetting her breathing, but was somehow able to keep from completely losing it.

“This seemed the easier route.” The woman pushed the cart out of the blonde’s room before turning around and taking hold of the doorknob, “I’ll be coming by again in an hour to make sure that you’ve managed to fall back asleep. Rest easy now.”

Jasmine didn’t ‘rest easy’ at all that night after that incident.

Her arm still hurt even after morning rolled around, and she ate and slept very little the next day. While she had been told she was allowed to leave her room to go to the recreation hall with the other patients that weren’t a high priority, Jasmine still refused to do that, too. If she stayed in her room, then she could keep at least some sort of advantage should another nurse come in with more shots.

This went on for two days before the staff finally got fed-up with her behavior around shower time and forced her out of her room. As usual it was Todd that chose to escort her to where they wanted her to go. His grip, of course, was purposefully digging into the visibly bruised area where Jasmine’s new ‘anxiety medication’ had been injected.

He dragged her into the recreation hall after she’d bathed and dressed, only to shove her forward once he’d opened the door. Todd snorted when the girl tripped and fell to the floor, “Now behave or I’ll have your sorry ass thrown into solitary confinement for the next twenty-four hours. _Without_ that stupid bear.”

“Yes, sir...” Jasmine muttered while picking herself up slowly. She was far too exhausted to bother fighting back, but knew that was probably for the best. No one other than her brother had made her want to gravely injure someone until she’d come here. No one except Todd, and it scared Jasmine knowing that she would have bashed his head in against the nearest hard surface if she didn’t fight to restrain the urge.

She wasn’t going to let herself turn into the kind of person her biological father was. She could control this.

Todd let out one of his notorious scoffs before he left to talk up the nurse that was supposed to be keeping an eye on everything. Jasmine sighed in relief when he turned his attention elsewhere, but didn’t quite know what to do from there.

The female nurse that took her to the showers had made Jasmine leave Donnie in her room. Todd then refused to let her get the teddy bear before dragging her here, which the girl came to expect and hate about him.

That still left her feeling unbelievably vulnerable in the area that was crowded with other patients, though. Some of them were looking at her and all Jasmine could think to do was rush to an empty table in the corner to get away from their curious gazes.

It wasn’t much of a change, but at least everyone seemed to get the idea that she wanted to be left alone and went along their own business of reading, playing board games, or doing puzzles. Jasmine was thankful for that and slid into one of the chairs at the table while trying to keep any impending panic attacks under wraps.

She was pretty sure that whatever Jimenez ordered she be injected with wasn’t for anxiety; there was absolutely no change in her behavior since then. Being switched to different types of medications for so many years gave her enough knowledge to know that this meant nothing new had been introduced into her system.

Jasmine didn’t want to dwell on that at the moment since it only made her tired mind hurt and her fears of this place grow. It was when she went to lay her head on her arms that the blonde noticed the table had crayons and a bunch of printer paper on top of it. Some of the pieces already had drawings on them, but she spotted a few that were still blank. It had been a while since Jasmine had last drawn something, and she wasn’t that good using crayons to do so, but...

The thought of an outlet for all of her stress was tempting enough for Jasmine to grab a piece of paper and dig through the bucket of broken crayons for a decent fleshy color. She knew that she couldn’t draw anything with a noose, something she associated with her mental illnesses, if she wanted to get out of this hellhole any time soon.

After a short while, Jasmine decided to start off drawing a manga-esque version of herself. It was just a simple bust, but it came out with sorrowful expression no matter how hard the girl tried to keep it from doing so. That was alright though; there were still other pieces of paper.

An unknown amount of time passed as she continued to draw as best she could with the crayons at her disposal. Four pages were filled with random fictional people and some animals, along with the Ancient Egyptian god on the fifth paper that was grabbed. Jasmine could feel herself smile softly while she continued to add little bits in the spaces around the deity’s lone figure.

Seeing the jackal-headed entity helped to remind her that her patron god was still with her no matter how horrible things had gotten.

Her mind was too muddled for him to visit in her dreams clearly in this place, but there had been small hints here and there that were the usual signs that Anpu, more commonly known as Anubis, was about when she thought back on them. Jasmine felt pretty stupid for letting the entire situation blind her to the little things, yet it honestly wasn’t the first time. He was always so patient with her no matter how many times she wondered why such a being would bother sticking around as long as Anpu had.

Jasmine made sure to apologize under her breath and was relieved that she didn’t get the feeling that the god might have been irritated with her.

Actually, all she was really sensing at the moment was--

“Pretty...”

\--Someone standing behind her. Dear gods, how did she not notice it sooner? They would have bitten her if they were a snake, as her mother often said, and Jasmine couldn’t help but jolt in her chair from the voice. She whipped her head around to stare accusingly at whoever decided to disturb her, only to relax a second later upon seeing who it was.

“Pretty dog...pretty dog, pretty dog...” Leslie continued to mutter while shuffling in place. He wasn’t really looking anywhere in particular as he did so, but Jasmine assumed he meant her drawings. She glanced to the paper beneath her hands before looking back to her fellow patient.

“Do you mean this?” Jasmine asked and held the paper up for him to see more clearly. Leslie didn’t look longer than a fleeting glance, but gave a quick nod of his head. His hands were fidgeting and Jasmine set the black crayon half on the table as a brief thought occurred to her. Perhaps her and Leslie could become friends of some sort...?

It would be nice.

“His name is Anpu, but people also call him Anubis,” She said softly while still holding the paper up and trying to explain in a way she hoped Leslie would understand, “He’s my father figure, since my real dad wasn’t really in my life. He looks after me.”

“Dad...dad...dad...” Leslie could only repeat. He still hadn’t stopped shuffling and Jasmine frowned softly. He didn’t seem as worked up as when she last saw him, but it still made her somewhat sad to witness his need to continuously repeat the actions. It was similar to how she would rock back and forth in an attempt to comfort herself right before the panic episodes she was having at home...

“Do you...want to draw something too?” Jasmine couldn’t ignore feeling like she needed to ease whatever could be bothering Leslie. Perhaps it was her maternal instincts kicking back on after being away from her animals for so long, or perhaps it was some need for a human companion in this place; Jasmine didn’t bother thinking about it longer than a couple of seconds.

Placing her paper back down, she slipped a blank one to the space to her left and moved the crayon bucket to sit between her work space and the other. Jasmine also pulled the chair out enough for him to sit before settling back onto her side of the unspoken barrier she’d just put up for him to hopefully be more comfortable with sitting near her, “Here you go, Leslie.”

The young man kept pacing for a brief moment longer while repeating ‘draw too’, but he stopped and slowly sat down after a minute or two and quieted. Jasmine smiled at this and it grew when Leslie picked up a crayon and began to draw. She went back to her own drawing while feeling a lot better with someone at her side.

Someone that she got the feeling wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a five foot two, hundred and ninety pound twenty-two year old female, anyway.

They sat together in a comfortable silence despite Jasmine jumping faintly every time there was a sudden and loud noise. Leslie seemed to be quite content with whatever he was drawing, even smiling a little when the girl glanced over a few times. That sweet smile suit him far better than the sad expression he seemed to have beneath the one of panic and fear she usually saw him wearing.

Maybe he was just lonely, too...?

Jasmine paused to watch Leslie thoughtfully before she grabbed another blank sheet of paper and picked up the tiny quarter of what was probably a flesh-colored crayon at some point. She grabbed a paler gray one as well, just for good measure, and got back to drawing. Broken and dirty crayons or not, the activity was as relaxing as the blonde had hoped it would be for her, even if her serene state wouldn’t be for long in this place.

She peered over at the young man every now and then while still focusing on her current picture with a smile of her own. This went on until Jasmine finished what she was doing and peered over to her fellow patient, “Do you want to see what I drew, Leslie?”

Leslie gave a few nods in answer to her question, quiet as the girl slid the paper around the crayon bucket and left it for him to take if he wanted to. He did, after what seemed like a bit of hesitation, but soon smiled when he saw himself depicted in crayon. Jasmine got the feeling that he didn’t recognize that it was him, perhaps because she’d left out all of his bruises, but he appeared happy enough with it.

“Pretty...” He muttered and traced the pale but colorful lines set out before him. It seemed to soothe him, to which Jasmine was relieved about for some reason. She didn’t bother trying to figure out why.

“You can keep it if you want to,” Jasmine offered and continued to watch him. She didn’t know how old Leslie actually was, but he was a lot like a little kid in some aspects. How he reacted to what she said confirmed this for her.

“This...is for Leslie?” The boy looked up timidly, but his expression was a mixture of surprise and hope. It was like he wasn’t used to people being kind or giving him things. Jasmine knew she was probably right with that hunch, given how this place was smothered in despair. It was so thick that it could have been collected as a viscous fluid, honestly.

Still, she tried to smile with her nod to show that this wasn’t some trick, “Mm-hm. All for you and no one else.”

“Good, good, good...!” Leslie beamed and looked back to the picture. He’d begun happily rocking side to side within his seat while running his fingers over the crayon portrait. The sheer joy with such a simple thing only made Jasmine’s heart hurt more for her potentially newfound friend.

“I already put my signature on it in the gold there too, see?” She pointed to the corner of the picture from her spot while trying her best not to let her sadness bleed into the smile she was fighting to keep in place.

“No name...” Was the muttered reply she got when Leslie presumably looked to where she motioned. It wouldn’t have been hard to spot, seeing at it was the only gold on the paper. A simple ‘JS’ beside an ankh. Was Leslie confused about that?

“That’s actually how I sign what I draw, but--” Jasmine began to explain, only to pause when something dawned on her. She should have realized it sooner really, feeling the fool for not doing so when it was so obvious. The girl could feel guilt and stupidity smack her full on when she finally picked up where she’d so suddenly stopped herself, “--I...never told you my name, did I...?”

Leslie didn’t respond immediately. This led Jasmine to believe she was right in assuming that he didn’t hear her returning Jimenez's self-introduction with her first name alone. He more than likely hadn’t because she wasn’t talking to him directly at that point, and whatever mental illness he had could have also been a contributing factor.

Before she could even open her mouth to apologize for something a part of her knew she had no real control over, however, Leslie paused in his rocking but never looked up from the picture in his grasp, “...Jasmine...”

The blonde was shocked to hear her name actually falling from his lips. She most certainly wasn’t expecting it; especially as the young man began to repeat it while rocking side to side again. The motion wasn’t out of happiness this time, but Jasmine couldn’t read what Leslie was feeling and she didn’t want to stress him out by asking if he was going to be alright.

“Jasmine...Jasmine...” He continued to descend into mumbling more and more. While Leslie’s head was tilt down towards the picture, it was becoming obvious that he was looking through it and to some distant place that only he knew. She felt that he was going to a little world only for him, perhaps some small place of happiness that he’d somehow managed to hold onto despite being here.

She wished that she was strong enough to hold onto things like that, but these days...

“Yeah...yeah, that’s right Leslie,” Jasmine muttered as she saw him drifting away mentally because of whatever might have triggered the poor boy. She hoped he heard her, yet knew there was no guarantee. Not when someone was like this.

While the girl began pondering leaving Leslie alone at that point, his murmurs began to change. In fact, Jasmine really wouldn’t have noticed it if the male’s voice hadn’t gradually become louder and increasingly laced with building panic. His rocking hadn’t stopped, lips quivering while he practically chanted, “Bad...bad...! Bad! Bad! _Bad!_ ”

“What....?” Jasmine was confused and even became a little uneasy with the sudden turn in the other patient’s demeanor. She opened her mouth to let him know that wasn’t right while she maintained the space between them, trying not to begin freaking out just from witnessing such instability, but her pulse was already loud enough in her ears that she barely heard herself saying: “No, Leslie, my name isn’t bad. It’s--”

“--Jasmine Summers, I presume?”

The blonde could only jump when her name being called from directly behind her was completely unexpected. She squeaked through a gasp and barely caught a glimpse of a rather professional-looking woman before something even more startling to her fragile state of being occurred.

At her small, sharp sound of shock at the appearance of the well-dressed woman now standing behind the two seated at the table, Leslie let out a howl of a scream. He had thrown his head back to do so, getting so loud that Jasmine was forced to cover her ears because he showed absolutely no signs of stopping. The white-haired boy started to shout incoherently when the nurses rushed over upon noticing this episode, their interference only appearing to make him worse.

Jasmine could only watch in stunned silence as they drug a flailing Leslie away while he repeatedly yowled for the nurses to let go of him. Her heart was still drumming violently against her ribs and lungs to the point of the usual pleurisy pains threatening to act up, but now she was more confused and helpless than panicked. She didn’t understand what had just happened; not when things were going so well beforehand...!

She’d almost completely forgotten about the woman standing a few feet away until her voice reached her through her thoughts again, “Well, that wasn’t too unexpected. Your file mentions you might have a form of anxiety, after all. May I sit here?”

The woman was motioning to the seat Leslie was previously occupying. She looked to be in her thirties and was tall, pale blonde hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. She was extremely professional in appearance with her suit and heels, having a necklace and set of matching earrings. Anyone could tell that this woman didn’t belong here, yet no one was looking at her like the sore thumb she seemed to stick out as to Jasmine.

“Um,” The younger woman began cautiously while watching the other female as if she were about to jump at and bite her. Jasmine’s body hadn’t completely calmed back down, but the emotional drain of such a sudden incident of anxiety and confusion had her feeling light-headed. “Who are you, if I may ask...?”

“Who I am is not important,” The woman replied matter-of-factly while sitting down anyway. Jasmine had to quickly collect the drawings before the woman could put the briefcase she was carrying on top of them uncaringly. Her portrait of Leslie was crumpled and a bit torn now, probably from the boy’s unexpected fit, but she still went to straighten in out. Until she’d glanced at what he’d drawn, that was.

It was a simple picture of a house and smiling stick figure family with some pets, much like how a preschooler would draw something, but that wasn’t what had Jasmine pausing briefly in wonder. The colors weren’t exactly right. In fact, they were a _lot_ of not right.

The bodies were each different and mixed of blues, purples, and greens. The hair was the same, as was the house and animals, and even the sun wasn’t colored like it should have been. She’d never seen anything like it before.

Was Leslie...colorblind?

It was possible, but so was the chance that such an off set of colors chosen were due to a mental illness. Leslie may have simply liked the colors he used and focused on that instead of making it accurate, too, but not knowing surprisingly bothered her more than it would have normally.

Jasmine tried to push the nagging for an explanation to Leslie’s drawing to the back of her mind and returned to flattening out her own art. She shifted her chair a little further away from the mystery woman, not looking at her when she sighed softly and tried to get the answer as to who she was and why she was bothering her.

“If who you are isn’t so important, then why are you here?” Jasmine asked with that same weary sigh, cringing when the paper tore beneath her gentle, smoothing motions. Crap, she was probably going to have to redraw the picture on a different paper...

The woman watched the younger blonde, almost as if assessing her physically for something while she responded simply with, “I’ve come to pick you up for your therapy.”

“Wait, _what_ therapy?” Was Jasmine’s immediate and cautious demand while she snapped her full attention to the other female. No one told her jack shit about any therapy, and in this place? That could very well have meant the absolute worst. She was so obviously untrusting, thinking that these wackos were going to try some sort of electro shock therapy or lobotomize her, but the older woman wasn’t at all phased by such blatant suspicion.

“Dr. Jimenez didn’t tell you?” She seemed to be surprise, but Jasmine could detect this was simply for show. She almost wouldn’t have noticed the little hints that gave the woman’s uncaring nature to the situation away if it wasn’t for her stomach beginning to twist. Something was going on here, and a part of Jasmine didn’t want to know what.

“I haven’t spoken to him since my appointment a couple of days ago. He’s been gone.” Jasmine didn’t want this woman to know that she was onto her, or that her paranoia wasn’t simply due to her anxious state. Thankfully playing it off by focusing on the damaged paper once more so she didn’t have to make any eye contact was surprisingly easier than the younger blonde thought.

“I see. He must have been too busy and forgot to mention that he signed you up for it before he left.” The woman didn’t seem to care enough to bother noticing any of this going on in Jasmine’s head as she opened her briefcase and pulled out some papers that were stapled together. She moved the box of crayons and slid them over for the girl to see. It was more legal papers it seemed, but she didn’t exactly explain the papers when she continued, “It is a fairly new type of group therapy that we’ve been testing on various mental illnesses for a few years now. I’ve looked at your files and have to agree with Jimenez in terms of how eligible you are for the program.”

Something about all of this wasn’t sitting right, moreso than the whole mental hospital situation. Jasmine couldn’t help but think this was too sudden. Absolutely _nothing_ would go through the system and be approved in only a matter of days.

She felt, however, that it would be wise to keep this to herself for the sake of her own safety and simply gave a faint frown. “Do I have to go...now?”

“Yes, but mostly for preparing for the therapy. If you take well to that, then we’ll allow you to have your first session today. You can read the legality of everything in here on the way there.” The woman spoke to Jasmine as if she’d already agreed to this nonsense.

Jasmine chewed the inside of her bottom lip for a moment in thought. She really, really didn’t want to get involved in whatever scheme this supposed ‘therapy’ was, and wanted to make that clear without appearing aggressive. Less of a chance of becoming sedated or sent to solitary confinement if she remained docile for the time being, so she kept this in mind while asking, “What if I don’t _want_ to have this therapy, though?”

“Your doctor and insurance company insists on it, I’m afraid.” Once again with that chilling all-business tone, but the information the woman was giving was what caused the younger blonde to bristle more than her tone could ever have. “They say that they won’t approve or finance your return to facilities near your home if you don’t at least give the therapy a try to see if it helps your condition.”

The gods damn it all, Jasmine knew that John and her insurance were going to twist her arm at some point. Why couldn’t they see that she was well enough to go back home and actually let her do so!? The system was so screwed over these days that it wasn’t even funny at this point. _Fuck...!_

“...Alright, I’ll do the therapy.” Jasmine had to inhale deeply to keep her temper in check, reminding herself to give everyone involved in this clusterfuck a piece of her mind after she got out of this hellhole. It was hard, but she managed to speak without sounding like she wanted to beat someone over the head with a chair.

The very chair she pushed herself out of while unintentionally giving a sullen mutter, “I just want to get this bullshit over with and go home as soon as I can, anyway...”

“If all goes well with your sessions, then I’m sure we can arrange at least that much.” The older woman had excellent hearing, yet Jasmine didn’t believe a damn thing she just said. It didn’t matter how much a part of her wanted to desperately cling onto the sliver of hope offered; the girl knew that she couldn’t afford it.

Not if she wanted to survive this with what little sanity life had allowed her to keep.

Forced to leave her drawings behind on the table and carry the legal papers instead, Jasmine found herself rounded up into a van with three other patients and two men she didn’t recognize that were dressed in black suits and looked like a couple of bouncers. The large white van had no windows in the back that made it feel like some sort of prison. Apparently the girl wasn’t the only one to notice, as the oldest of the four of them began to mutter something frantically about the walls closing in.

Before he could get much further in a potentially bad episode within the small space, however, one of the men in black injected something into the poor guy’s arm. A sedative no doubt, and Jasmine kept still and silent as to not be next on their list. She would remain complaisant for now, but if one of these bastards started coming at her with that needle...

Well, instinct was something she knew all about depending on whenever she found herself in a physical confrontation. Jasmine just hoped her fight or flight switch was still prone to flipping to fight.

She wasn’t a teenager anymore, not to mention the anxiety attacks she found herself struggling against whenever she so much at heard the nurses arguing over who got what shift. They were gradually getting worse as time went on and could reduce the girl to a sobbing mess rocking back and forth in a corner.

Jasmine shook her head to get rid of the thoughts when it felt like her heart rate had begun to quicken. A check to her pulse let her know that her heart hadn’t sped up at all. Just a warning of a potential anxiety attack in response to her imagining having to fight off a bunch of men trying to sedate her, she supposed.

It was at that time that they’d reached their destination, of which a part of the blonde was grateful for. It gave her something to focus on other than her own twisted mind or the bullshit papers she left in the van.

Despite that, however, the building her and the other patients were led into wasn’t anything like she’d imagined it to be. It didn’t seem like a place one would go to for therapy. In fact, all of the people she could see through the windows of the different levels were dressed far too formally; the same as the older woman still at the front of their current little pack.

“This way, please.” Said woman spoke up when she’d glanced over her shoulder and saw Jasmine moving along slowly while she studied her surroundings. Jasmine reflexively snapped her teeth at one of the men when he went to shove her to get her to move faster, the action making him recoil when he thought she was actually going to bite.

Jasmine would have been lying to herself if she’d said that it didn’t make her smile a little bit and wonder if she could get away with doing the same to Todd the next time he grabbed her arm. Unfortunately there were other things she had to worry about, one of which being how Dr. Jimenez himself was standing in the windowless room they were ushered into.

“Ah, Miss Summers! I see you’ve been chosen for the program as well.” He greeted the girl, but she refused to reply at first. It made him visibly uncomfortable as she kept her gaze locked onto his for a surprising amount of time. She blinked before looking away after a few moments.

She was mulling over her words in her mind and reminding herself that kicking a doctor would probably result in sedation. After a few short seconds, Jasmine let out a huff through her nose, “The anxiety medicine injection you had one of the nurses shoot into my arm when I was sleeping isn’t working.”

“Injection...?” Jimenez muttered in confusion, only to clear his throat when those pale, gray-blue eyes snapped towards him once more. “Oh, yes. The Injection. Of course. We shall wait a few more days and if there haven’t been any changes, then we will see what else we can do. How does that sound?”

Jasmine could only hold her silence in her ever-present unease and realization that he didn’t know about the injection. Somehow that actually wasn’t all too surprising, but if Jimenez didn’t order it, then who did...? What the hell was even in that shot to begin with?

She subconsciously rubbed the bruised injection site as her and the others were instructed to sit down and watch something closely. It was some sort of film, on a projector of all things, consisting of just random pictures; including an image of a Rorschach test. There didn’t seem to be any purpose behind this other than the mild headache Jasmine began to feel after watching it loop a few times.

They were all asked how they felt after the film before being brought to a different, much brighter room. There were bathtubs full of some sort of milky liquid, all appearing linked up to--

Jasmine felt her stomach drop and her thoughts halt when she caught sight of a _brain_ within the center of the room. It was floating in a round glass container, multiple hosed implements of gods knew what leading to and seeming to be stabbing into the brain from all angles. Was this a part of this so-called ‘therapy’...?

The blonde broke away from the small group without even realizing it. She didn’t recall giving her feet the command to walk, but they still carried her down a few steps and towards the pickled grey matter. No one even bothered to stop Jasmine, not that she would have noticed such a thing while remaining transfixed upon the morbid sight.

She finally came to a stop once close enough to the brain, the literal center of whatever system took up the entirety of the room, and studied it. It was most definitely being penetrated by what she’d correctly assumed were a bunch of massive needles attached to those thick black hoses. There was even a label on the outside of the spherical container. A label with a _name_.

_**Ruben Victoriano.** _

That was right; this lump of lifeless grey matter was a person at one point...

“Over here, Miss Summers.” The older woman from before called out to Jasmine from where she was standing beside one of the many tubs. Her speaking up when she did caused the girl’s thoughts on the bodiless brain to stutter briefly, but that could have been the intention.

Those stationed about the room, and the building in general. seemed like the kind of people that could make a person disappear if they asked too many questions. Perhaps that was what happened to whoever Ruben Victoriano was, though there was no real way to ever know for sure. Jasmine grimaced, but kept silent as she went over to the woman with a final glance back towards the brain.

No questions, she had to remind herself. Stay quiet and play ignorant long enough and they would let her go home. It would all be worth it so long as she could _go. Home._

A second woman, slightly younger than the first and with long dark hair and thick glasses while also dressed like she was meant to be in some high-end business office, began to instruct Jasmine this time. “Get into the tub, if you would please.”

Jasmine’s chest tightened upon hearing her voice, knowing immediately that this woman was the nurse that had given her the injection that time a few nights before. She obviously wasn’t a nurse of Beacon hospital, what with the suit top, pencil skirt, and high heels. That meant that it was these people, not Jimenez, who ordered her injection.

That left the girl at a loss of what to do now when all her mind was screaming for her to do was to run. Jasmine knew she wouldn’t be able to make it out of this place, though; too many people. People that were now staring at her expectantly.

“...In my clothes...?” Jasmine had to force herself to say. She hoped that it wouldn’t give away that she knew about how the injection wasn’t Jimenez’s doing and was absolutely terrified of those surrounding her. Thankfully, the not-nurse didn’t appear to care enough about _anything_ to notice.

“The water is quite warm,” She spoke, almost as if she were trying to comfort the young woman’s unease, but her tone was...dead, in a way. This woman had seen some shit, Jasmine concluded, but she still frowned at what was said.

“That’s not what I mean.” Was her bitter, muttered response as she sifted on her feet. They actually expected her to get into weird murky white water without changing out of her clothes? What the hell was up with these people? Between injections and this ‘therapy’, the entire thing made absolutely no sense. It made her head hurt.

“We will provide you with dry, clean clothes once everything is done,” The first woman stepped up to explain, arms folded neatly behind her back. She tilt her head to one side after a brief pause before asking, “Unless you would prefer to be nude?”

“ _Hell_ no,” Jasmine blurted out rather defensively. She could barely stand to see herself naked, so no way were these creeps going to get a peep show at her expense. She’d suffer the soggy panties riding up her ass crack, thanks.

The older blonde let out a chuckle at the girl’s response and motioned to the tub with her head. “Then it would be best to do what you’re told if you truly want to get his over with in a timely fashion.”

Jasmine glanced to it before taking a steadying breath. She had no choice if she wanted to get through all of this bullshit. She wanted to be done with wading through all of these lies and go into the waiting arms of her family.

Hell, Jasmine would give anything to be listening to her mother and brother arguing again right about then; even if it led up to a blow-out fight. At least then she would have had some normalcy still and not find herself crawling into some strange, padded tub.

“Now, we will be putting you into something similar to REM sleep with the help of this device. You may see some strange or disturbing things during this, but I can assure you that this is completely normal,” Jimenez spoke, not at all reassuringly, once Jasmine was settled into the tub. He’d glanced to the blonde business woman briefly while passing her and Jasmine could detect traces of unease or fear in the doctor just from how a single bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

He was being careful, stepping lightly, and maybe even had something to hide. Jasmine didn’t have much time to pick apart the clearly stressed chemistry between the two as a beeping from the machine beside her tub distracted her. Even from her position, she could see scanned images of what she assumed was her brain on the screen.

“We will go over your experience once the session is over.” The older blonde moved to on side of the tub to offer the younger woman a smile. It was a strange mask of an expression that ceaselessly failed to reach the woman’s eyes, and that made Jasmine shift uncomfortably.

Bad move on her part, because there went her soggy boy shorts panties trying to turn themselves into a thong. Jasmine swore that she was going to demand a freaking bathing suit if they made her do all of this again.

“Now relax,” The dark-haired woman to the girl’s right began as she lift Jasmine’s head and pushed her hair aside. She was preparing something that the younger woman couldn’t see, humming out when she felt an involuntary shiver in their sanest patient. “This will all be over before you know it.”

Jasmine inhaled shakily and gripped the sides of the tub in some sort of a preemptive strike against whatever was coming, sensing something cold against her skin and noticing a building, sort of reverberating sound in both her ears. She couldn’t help the fear, couldn’t refrain from whispering to herself like a child calling out for their parents in the midst of a nightmare, “Anpu protect me...!”

Then it happened; a white hot pain that radiated all throughout her head. Jasmine gasped from the suddenness of it and gripped the edge of the tub so tightly that her knuckles tingled, but it wasn’t enough to distract from the agony dancing through her skull. There was a shrill ring in her ears that followed, and then...

Nothing.

It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep, really, but a part of Jasmine knew better.

The ringing faded back in at a lower decibel as she forced her eyes to open after a few moments of uncertainty. Jasmine found herself laying on her side on a sofa, blinking a few times to clear her vision and stare at an old wooden coffee table that was cluttered with papers and other miscellaneous items. It was a table the girl recognized immediately and she sat up to look around with hope.

Sure enough, the inside of her grandparents’ house was what greeted her. To say it was a sight for sore eyes was a complete understatement. Even the old couch she’d been resting on, purchased long before Jasmine herself was born and was home to many a dust bunny and snoozing dog, was a relief to see.

The old, worn fabric scratched against the skin of her palm as it always did and the sensation was relaxing. That was until the blonde realized that she was still wearing the clothes from the mental hospital. The bland off-white clothing made Jasmine grimace before she remembered where she was and pushed herself over the back of the sofa.

From carpet to tile, past the kitchen table, peninsula, fridge, and back to carpet again.

Jasmine was rushing to her old bedroom in search of some different attire. The closet was probably still full of nothing but sleep t-shirts, honestly, but that would be infinitely better than what she was dressed in. Even the stripped pink Scooby-Doo shirt a friend from childhood gave her would be better than the damn stuffy outfit still clinging to her.

Grabbing the smooth curve of the golden handle and forcing it down, she pushed the door open and froze upon seeing what was inside. It was her bedroom, but not the one at her grandparents’ house. No, the room she now stood in the doorway of was her room at home, in the little green trailer at the edge of a desert countryside. Jasmine had to rub her eyes just to be sure that she wasn’t seeing things. A glance behind her, revealing a darkened hallway, proved that she wasn’t. Even the handle of the door had changed, right beneath her palm.

Was this what Jimenez meant when he said she’d see some strange things? No one explained how this ‘therapy’ was going to work other than that lame ‘REM sleep’ lie that the doctor had fed her. This wasn’t like her dreams, it was too...real. Far too real, and she was in control of what she did.

Pondering these thoughts, Jasmine entered her bedroom and began to strip after she opened the right door of her closet. It was just as messy as she remembered, though she found one of her dresses easily enough.

Jasmine pulled the thin-strapped, dark navy blue dress over her head and smoothed the fabric down to where it stopped in a frill just below her knees. She almost immediately felt better being in her own clothes despite everything. Something was still missing, though...

She glanced to her right and spotted the full necklace racks hanging on the wall. That was it; she needed her necklaces. Jasmine grabbed her silver ankh first, followed by her cats eye moonstone oval, pewter Anpu medallion, and lastly her small silver eye of Horus. Contented with that, she looked around her room once more. It really was nearly just as she left it, though the Anpu doll she’d hand-sewn was propped up against her pillow alongside Donnie. The hospital had only let her keep the teddy bear, as Anpu had a heart with a hematite stone and they didn’t want her to be ‘tempted to harm herself again’ with it somehow.

What kind of idiot did those people take her for? She had to shake the thoughts from her head before they could anger her and inhaled to keep her relative calm.

Jasmine was home now and, all in her head or not, that meant that her animals should be there as well. The blonde couldn’t help but let herself smile at the thought of seeing all of her little ducks and maybe even her goats as she hurried over to her window. She pulled the curtains back, the window quickly following in her building, anticipated glee.

Before she could call out to her feathered children however, something stopped her words in her throat with a strange, strangulated sort of sound.

What Jasmine saw...

Were sunflowers.

It was a vast field of hundreds, if not thousands, of sunflowers unlike anything Jasmine had ever seen before. The sea of gold and green spread to the furthest horizon in a way both beautiful and yet somehow suffocating to the girl.

She could feel herself exhale slowly while taking in the view lain out across where her duck and goat pens were supposed to be. There was absolutely nothing there other than her trailer and the sunflower field; not even the young cottonwood tree that would scratch against her window on windy days. All that met her was the stillness where she was so used to seeing the lives she nurtured day after day. It felt like a moment frozen in time, a moment that didn't belong to Jasmine, and that seemed to unnerve her about as much as the boundless field of towering flowers and sunset skies.

Something caught the young woman's gaze in the moment she thought this, seeming to materialize from nothing in the distance while she squinted. No glasses even in her dream, she scoffed at not being able to find them, but that only had her leaning out of the window to try and see whatever this new thing was.

A sharp pain from her right shoulder caused Jasmine to recoil with an inhaled hiss from the sting and clutch the area. The blood was clear enough upon the fingers of her left hand when she withdrew it and peered down in the confusion surrounding this entirely surreal ordeal. The source of the pain and blood only caused more confusion for the poor girl as she wracked her brain for a cause of the sudden wound.

“How the hell...?” Jasmine muttered with furrowing eyebrows. She'd had blood from this place many, _many_ years before what was happening now. Nothing had even touched her, so there was no reason for it to be bleeding, unless...

She paused upon struggling to lick and wipe the blood from the wound to uncover it for proper inspection.

There was no mistaking it now; her shoulder was bleeding from a scar she'd gotten as a child during her time playing in the desert around a dead apple orchard. That very scar was now bubbling out blood like a leaking water line despite being shallow and no longer than an inch.

It had originally been made by barbed wire she'd failed to hold out of the way when climbing through the old rusted fences surrounding the property, but this time it was bleeding far worse than it initially had. It was all so...

“...Interesting.”

 _No, that’s not the word I’m looking for,_ Jasmine thought with a frown down at her wound. If anything, her old scar bleeding the way it was now was creepy; _not_ interesting.

She froze in the next moment, her weary mind finally realizing that she wasn’t the one who had spoken the singular word. Jasmine could only shudder and cautiously glance around from her peripherals while she checked to make sure there were still weapons hidden about her room. Thank the gods there were, including the machete she kept by her bed, but it brought little comfort as the earlier voice returned.

“No significant connection to the system, yet the subject has somehow accessed the main memory centers despite the current rejection of STEM,” This voice began speaking lowly, almost to itself like some sort of personal documentation. It almost sounded muffled or faded; like listening to someone talking through a thin wall.

Jasmine realized that the mystery voice was drifting in from the window, but didn’t look back outside. Not directly, at least. She was pretending to look around for something on the cluttered desk right beside her and shifted her head just enough for a quick peek.

There was a man standing some feet away from her window, amongst the ocean of sunflowers, but he looked...strange. As in, more of a corpse than a living man, but the hood he was wearing covered all from his mouth up in an ominous shadow so she could see no more than heavily scarred skin where the slightly burnt and dirty clothing didn’t cover. The man didn’t indicate that he’d noticed she knew he was there.

Unfortunately, thinking back on his words only confused Jasmine as the man took in the single window seemingly floating before him at the edge of the field and appeared thoughtful of the situation. “While I have had something similar happen in a small percentage of previous test subjects, none have ever made it this deep before. This subject makes for number seven in the series of anomalies I have previously encountered in my studies,” Mystery man paused with a humorlessly scoffed laugh, “The read outs must be driving Jimenez insane.”

“You know Dr. Jimenez?” Jasmine asked as she reflexively turned back to the window upon hearing her new doctor’s name before mentally cringing. She could have smacked herself for giving up her little charade so easily, but this person, possibly conjured up from the depths of her subconscious, could have information she might be able to use against those who had twisted her arm into doing this.

The male tilt his head to the side slightly, sharp gaze regarding her coldly from the shadows of his hood. He appeared to be calculating something before speaking with a tone that almost could have been regarded as monotonous, “By your reaction, I assume that you can both see and hear me.”

“Yes.” Jasmine nodded and placed her hands back against the cool metal of the window’s rail. Her right shoulder stung sharply once more and caused the girl to look to her still-bleeding scar. The flow was much heavier now and was gradually trailing down her arm, but she could deal with that later. This man had almost all of her attention for the time being.

She couldn’t feel anything from him in even the slightest with the expression beneath the hood as emotionless as his tone, but Jasmine almost found this... _facilitating_ , if not terrifyingly so. Just his general predatory demeanor was enough to send alarm bells screaming through her head, and yet she couldn’t help but feel like a part of her was being drawn to him by some unseen force.

That part actually scared her once she realized that she’d begun to lean further out of the window. Jasmine had to pull herself sharply back just to keep from tumbling forward, eyeing the man cautiously when he gave a brief dark smirk at her obvious panic.

“...Who _are_ you...?” She barely managed to utter. Intrigue was quickly morphing into a suffocating fear that was coursing through every inch of her body, and this seemed to please the hooded male quite a bit.

“The deliciousness of what little of your fear that is leaking into the system aside, I am currently unable to hear you. A curious thing, really, but it doesn’t matter. You don’t have much time left here.” He was as still as a statue even when those scarred lips parted to speak, and this all seemed so surreal in some way. Terrifying, but more surreal than before.

“I don’t understand...” Jasmine said despite how he explained that he wasn’t able to hear a single thing she was saying. She couldn’t help it; all that was filling her head was the buzz of a million questions. Maybe she could find something to write them down on? Figment of her subconscious or not, this being might actually have the answers she felt that she desperately needed.

“Since you were obviously drug into all of this without knowing the truth of the matter, I’ll give you some advice.” The man turned his back to Jasmine and shifted his head just enough so she could still hear him from over his shoulder as much as her ‘non significant connection’ allowed, “Don’t trust Jimenez, beware of Mobius, and pray that you and I never meet again. I won’t be so willing to let you go next time, girl.”

He began to walk away, image beginning to flicker in and out among the swaying flowers like some sort of failing projections or even one of those science fiction holograms on shows and in books. Jasmine was, to say the least, no less confused than she had been before this odd one-sided talk. She felt irritated, actually.

“Hey, wait!” She shouted after him and didn’t care if he could hear her or not as she tried to get his attention before he was gone. She wanted answers, needed them, and all he was going to say was that she needed to be wary of an asshole she already didn’t trust, some Mobius thing she didn’t even know about, and that they better not meet again? What the fuck kind of bullshit was _that!?_

Entirely on impulse and swearing under her breath the entire way, Jasmine found herself rolling her old computer chair closer to the window. Her intent was to use it to help her launch herself out of the window easier and it would have worked if a large, dark-skinned arm hadn’t locked around her waist before her entire body was through that metallic threshold.

Only the blonde’s upper body was outside of the window when it happened;

A shock, like a bolt of lightning, shot through Jasmine’s exposed mind with excruciating pain.

The ringing was back louder than it had ever been, surroundings melting and melding into a symphony of blackened agony and muddled thoughts. Time had stopped, sped up, no longer _existed_ within the space of assaulted senses that could no longer be discerned as a singular person.

Jasmine felt emotions she didn’t recognize, smelled scents that triggered no memories of her own, felt surgically precise slices and severed nerves of flesh torn away from limbs that were not hers.

Millions of trillions of different synapses of hundreds of people fired off with fear and numbness and pain. They were filling her to the breaking point, tearing her apart on a molecular level as they howled and cried for freedom within the void engulfing her very being. They were grabbing, pushing, pulling at atoms she wasn’t certain she was connected to anymore. There was only the anguish filling up her lungs like fluid.

Light, a pinpoint of vermilion hues of anger and hate and fear, exploded into the darkness and embraced her shaking essence like an abusive lover. Her skin was the very flames replacing the void with a whole new dimension of torment, the ringing in her ears a screaming crescendo of a young woman in her death throes.

Jasmine barely recognized that she was the one shrieking when the darkness returned to swallow her whole.


	2. Of Nightmares and Apparitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answers are needed as the spider's web is thickening, but nothing is as easy as it seems.  
> Not even when one of the Ancients step up to the plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to finish and post this chapter sooner, but life has been getting in the way as of late. Hopefully it won't take too long for me to finish the next one so that things can pick up a bit. I had some fun doing this one despite how long it took, simply because I got to write a scene with Anpu in it. He seemed pretty pleased with the result as well.  
> Also; don't be afraid to tell me what you guys think of it so far. I mean, I am writing it more for my benefit, but I'd still like to know your opinions.

Nightmares were things Jasmine was accustomed to having, but never remembered.

She would be told that she often whimpered, groaned, or even sometimes cried out in her sleep. Whenever Jasmine awoke, however, she never remembered a single thing of what she’d dreamt of. It naturally unnerved her at first, but when she took her tainted childhood and own self-loathing into account...

Perhaps it was better to not remember any of her nightmares in the end. It was just her mind’s way of keep an unsteady balance. Jasmine wasn’t strong enough to be forced to remember the things she suspected she would dream about on those nights where she would disturb her family while in the clutches of a fitful sleep.

Yes, not remembering was for the best.

Not remembering meant that she wouldn’t have to deal with her blackened dreams haunting her waking hours, which was what she prayed would happen when she finally awoke from the nightmare currently plaguing her. This nightmare that was burning her flesh away as if she were nothing more than paper.

Jasmine was curled up on a pile of straw, flames melting cloth to skin and lapping at her limbs. She could feel the burning path creeping up her chin, caressing her bottom lip with a molten kiss and cupping her left cheek with all the searing passion of the sun. Being unable to move as the fire consumed her wasn’t the worst of this horror show, however. Someone, a young woman perhaps, was screaming.

Over and over, like a skipping record, the scream cut through the roaring of the burning barn like the mournful wail of a banshee. It was a maddening sound, one the blonde feared she might not forget even after she stirred from this hell.

Why was she even dreaming about this...?

This scenario didn’t feel like it belonged to her, like she was invading and being invaded by it all at once, but it wouldn’t stop. The flames were real, the screaming was real, the _agony_ was **_real_ **. Jasmine couldn’t escape it.

She could feel her lips trembling, smell her skin burning away, tears evaporating on her lashes, and a voice that wasn’t her own tore from her throat with a horrendous croak;

“ _Lau...ra...!”_

Body jolting at the desperate sound of a young boy’s weeping plea for the most important person in his life, Jasmine’s mind somehow broke free from the intrusive vision. Her nerves still felt the stabbing ache of the fire once embracing her, even as consciousness coaxed her to come back to her body.

‘ _ **Wake up, little pup.’**_

Jasmine could feel herself inhaling deeply from the familiar voice urging her along, the taste of burnt flesh and blood heavy on her tongue while she struggled desperately to find her way back to herself. Eyelids fluttered, fingers twitched, and finally, _finally_ , Jasmine roused from her terror-filled slumber.

Her body took a second, fathomless intake of air like a first breath of life to a corpse. Had she not been breathing properly when she was asleep? Jasmine didn’t know; all she cared to do was force her heavy eyes open and take in the bleary image of an ugly off-white, but most certainly flame-free ceiling. Relief washed over her fatigued form, yet it was only for the briefest of moments.

The nightmare, vision, or whatever horror she’d been trapped in was still vividly clinging to her waking memory. This was the first thing she noticed aside from how the stench of an all-consuming blaze hung around her senses. It was nauseating.

So nauseating, if fact, that Jasmine went to roll off of her bed and run to the sink she saw out of the corner of her eye. She would have done so, too, if it wasn’t for the fact that trying to turn her body with her arms remaining stuck firmly in place alerted her to the fact that she was _strapped to the fucking bed._ The leather was cutting into her skin and causing pain to scream along her nerves should have been obvious as she was rousing, but her mind was overrun with far too much information and her consciousness wasn’t caught up with everything.

One thing was for certain though; being bound to a bed with leather straps at her wrists and ankles, accompanied by an overwhelming urge to vomit, triggered an anxiety attack on top of everything else.

“Fuck...!” Jasmine barely managed to keep the bile from escaping while gasping and wheezing helplessly. A headache nearing migraine proportions assaulted her eardrums with ringing after only moments of her weak struggling against her binds. Something was happening to Jasmine, something she’d never experienced before. _Symptoms_ she’d never experienced before.

Her once overactive nerves began to go numb in some sort of chain reaction, mind and body buzzing and shaking uncontrollably with such a force that her eyes were rolling up on their own. Jasmine could hear voices, screaming, feel the vomit spewing into her mouth and being involuntarily inhaled into her lungs, choking her and--

‘ _ **My pup, you need to wake. Up.’**_

The entirety of Jasmine’s form jerked as she heard the familiar voice within her mind again; right against her senses and surprisingly almost urgent in nature. Her eyes snapped open when it yanked her from the nightmare wrapped in a second layer of fresh hell, but she was still in the midst of having an anxiety attack.

Jasmine lift her arms and shifted her legs with great difficulty, but glad to see that she wasn’t tied down with anything as her breathing began to regulate. Breathing that wasn’t crackling or gurgled with inhaled stomach contents; an immense relief on her part. She could still taste the vomit on her tongue even though there was obviously none, but thankfully the anxiety attack was ebbing away the longer she stayed awake.

A surprising lack of _ode to cooked human_ aroma in the air had the girl exhaling softly, feeling utterly exhausted upon what felt like a horridly crappy mattress. The off-white ceiling was hanging above her head once more. Problem was; Jasmine’s groggy, overworked, and headache assaulted mind couldn’t quite place it.

Where was she again...?

The ceiling looked as if it was shifting color and design to something one would expect to find in some fancy mansion. The shifting wasn’t consistent for some reason, but it was still agitating the blonde’s headache. This one wasn’t migraine level like the one in her dream, thank the gods.

Ah, that was right; she could remember the two dreams...

The two _nightmares._

“That’s not a good sign...” Jasmine muttered to herself as she lift an arm with the intent to cover her eyes with it. She paused when she had, realizing for the first time that she was actually hooked up to an IV drip. A sideways glance proved this correct with the sight of a pole with multiple bags of various liquids hanging from it. The saline bag was recognizable, the other three...not so much. At least this gave Jasmine a hint as to where she could be; some sort of hospital--

Beacon Mental Hospital. _She was in Beacon Mental Hospital._

It all hit Jasmine rather suddenly, from the transfer here to the so called _therapy_ , and she could feel her stomach churn. There were traces of agonizing sensations and emotions dancing about the edges of her mind and simply trying to recall such a multitude of suffering to the forefront of her thoughts made her body react violently.

Jasmine barely managed to roll herself from the bed and stumble across the room to the toilet before her stomach expelled every ounce of its contents. It was nothing more than some stomach acid that burned her throat and sinuses when the force of the vomiting sent a few drops up past her open mouth.

Even when there was nothing more to purge from her stomach, Jasmine's body still retched in a desperate attempt to rid itself of something. _Anything._

This wasn’t the most ill the blonde had been in her life, but it was pretty damn close. She was dizzy, the unrelenting headache causing her ears to ring faintly, and her upper body jerking every other second with fading gagging. At least she was only firing out of _one_ hole this time, but that didn’t help her feel any better. Jasmine felt too weak to get up and go back over to the bed once her dry-heaving was done with.

The sounds the girl had been making seemed to alert someone nearby, though Jasmine only noticed this when the door to her room opened. She didn’t even have enough strength to physically jump when a voice came from behind her: “Goodness me. Still not feeling well, are we?"

A glance over her shoulder allowed Jasmine to see that it was Miss Not-A-Nurse; the woman that injected her with ‘anxiety medicine’ a few nights before her _therapy_ and...was actually dressed as a Beacon nurse this time. The blonde didn’t know what to think of this, seeing as she was still nauseous and clinging to the bowl of the toilet with one arm.

“What are you doing here...?” Jasmine finally managed to utter, pulling the intravenous pole close enough to rest her head against. The nurse hummed slightly as she moved closer and placed her hand against the younger woman’s forehead.

“I’m just doing my job, Miss Summers,” She replied. The tone of her voice was just as emotionless as it was before the therapy started, but she was actually trying to do what nurses did. At least, more than what the usual nurses at Beacon did. She’d even pulled out a mercury thermometer from a little container in one of her pockets and began to shake it in order to get it down to the proper mark. “You’ve been quite out of it for the past handful of days, so I was assigned to monitor your condition.”

‘Assigned’ was such an odd choice in wording that Jasmine couldn’t help but shudder faintly. She’d never dealt with someone so emotionally dead before and the change from a nurse, to mysterious black suit operative, back to nurse again making it all the more unnerving.

Still, as the older woman helped her back to her bed, she wasn’t any less grateful for the assistance and said so. “Thank you, um...”

“You may call me Tatiana.” The nurse, Tatiana, checked the thermometer in her hand before she began to shake it again. Jasmine grew up with having to use glass mercury thermometers, so she knew how long it could take to get one down to where you needed it at the base line. You’d get a wrong reading otherwise.

“Thank you, Nurse Tatiana...” The blonde muttered, though her mind was partially elsewhere as she remembered how her grandmother practically had a heart attack when she didn’t level the thermometer out before taking her temperature. Jasmine must have been younger than ten at the time and, as was common, was often sick with random fevers as a child.

It would have been an amusing reaction at the time if her grandmother hadn’t practically dropped her in a bathtub full of freezing water. That wasn’t a safe way to handle a fever in a child, so there had been quite the argument over it that involved her mother. Simpler times, really...

“Just Tatiana is fine.” That flat tone caused Jasmine to sigh softly as she leaned back against the wall. She still felt so weak and couldn’t quite wrap her aching head around the session itself.

“Right,” Jasmine paused briefly, glancing to where Tatiana was looking at the thermometer again, “What happened? With the therapy, I mean...”

Tatiana didn’t look at her, focused on what was in her hands. “I believe Dr. Jimenez should be the one to explain that to you. He will be here shortly to see how your condition is for himself. Now open your mouth so I can take your temperature.”

Jasmine did so wordlessly, like she had for what felt like a thousand times before in her short life, and the older woman placed the delicate glass between the girl’s teeth as the metal tip jabbed at the skin beneath the tongue. “You had us all quite worried, young lady.”

Yeah, Jasmine doubted that.

 _Unless,_ The cynical part of her began to hiss in her mind, much like a snake, _They still need you for whatever they’re planning. You’ll never get to go home at this rate. You’re going to die in here; be it by your own hand, or theirs ._

Her stomach lurched once more at that thought, though Jasmine didn’t have to run to the toilet again to heave up whatever stomach acid managed to form in the short amount of time from the last vomitfest. She didn’t like listening to that part of herself, her depression, hatred, and anger. She was toxic enough without it gnawing her mind 24/7, but those thoughts were always eating away at her no mater how much she tried to push them away.

It wasn’t something she could just get rid of. True, it was the result of an unseen wound that had been festering inside of her since she was around five years old, but it was a part of her. A part she fought, a part she loathed with every fiber of her being, but...

Something born from revulsion, from such unadulterated _terror..._

There was no escaping it; not for her. Not when her tainted childhood fed such an all-consuming ire. Such a rage that devoured her heart, clouded her mind in despair daily, and would not die until she did. It was her Siamese twin, her parasitic partner, her madness looped around her throat and pulling the noose tighter day by day.

She couldn’t escape herself, but she would be _damned_ if she wasn’t going to escape Beacon. They weren’t going to keep her here; even if she died trying to get out.

“I see that you’re finally awake and coherent, Miss Summers,” Jimenez’s voice tore the blonde from her thoughts while Tatiana took the thermometer out to jot down the result and, sure enough, there the deceitful doctor stood before them. He ignored Jasmine’s grimace as he approached and pulled a penlight out of his lab coat pocket while grabbing her chin and flashing it in her eyes. Her pupils responded normally, which seemed to please him, “You had me quite worried, young lady.”

Jasmine was definitely calling bullshit on that now that both Tatiana _and_ Jimenez had said nearly the same thing.

“What happened with the therapy?” Jasmine demanded, albeit far more exhaustedly than she preferred. There was no dancing around the proverbial bush until a rabid bear snatched you from the inside of it. She wanted answers and she wanted them _now_.

Jimenez could see this, giving a sigh. He supposed he could explain what happened, or part of it. No point in bothering the poor girl with _every_ detail, right? Yes, that would take up far too much time and cause unnecessary panic in the subject. Not only that, but...no, he couldn’t think about that now. They didn’t have all of the details, which he was going to try to get now.

“What is the last thing you can remember about your session?” Jimenez asked as he raised the clipboard in his hand and pulled an actual pen out. He was taking notes, which made Jasmine rather cautious about the situation. Where was Donnie when she needed something to cling to for comfort? Because the teddy bear wasn’t anywhere on the bed with her, and she had to respond to the doctor and not panic at all.

“Pain,” She replied slowly, picking her words carefully as she kept certain details from the doctor as much as she could sense that he was keeping certain details from her. “Unimaginable pain, almost like...like I was burning alive.”

“I see...” Jimenez muttered, and Jasmine swore that she almost detected _fear_ within him for the briefest of moments. It was gone as quickly as it had come to him, only to be replaced with a sort of darker curiosity. “Do you remembered any actual flames? A burning location, perhaps?”

“No.” Jasmine didn’t hesitate to lie. “Just the sensation before waking up here again. I really hope that isn’t normal, because your therapy sucks if it is.”

“No, no, something like this isn’t an occurrence that happens every time someone’s mind encounters STEM. Granted, it isn’t entirely _uncommon_ , but we don’t expect it to happen again.” He tried to assure her. Jasmine had this look on her face that she knew clearly stated she wasn’t convinced, but hadn’t realized that she’d been making unfaltering eye contact with the man with it firmly in place.

“You still haven’t told me _what_ happened, doctor.” She pressed, ignoring the faint ringing in her ears of the surprisingly still-present throbbing within her skull. Answers first.

“You experienced a seizure in the middle of your session the other day. I expect it was due to a history of epilepsy in your mother being passed on to you hereditarily.” It wasn’t a lie on his part, seeing as Jasmine didn’t let them know that the only reason her mother had epilepsy to begin with was because _her_ mother had bashed her over the head with a phone hard enough to knock her out when she was a child. Still, the girl wanted to hear what he had to say and thus remained silent so he could continue. “We were forced to sedate you when the seizure triggered a... _violent_ alteration of your consciousness. Your lack of multiple seizures or reoccurring psychosis, however, leads me to believe that a second session with the STEM therapy should prove it to be a one-time only occurrence with you.”

That was a lot for Jasmine to take in all at once, her still-nagging headache not helping in the slightest, but one thing stuck out to her. It wasn’t even the fact that she’d been sedated, though that would certainly be bothering her later.

No, what unnerved the blonde the most was; “A second session? You mean that I have to do that all again...!?”

“No need to be upset,” Jimenez almost spoke as if he was talking to a child upon hearing the distraught questions. “As with taking a medication six weeks before knowing if it is working or not, one must experience STEM multiple times before we know if the therapy is right for you.”

 _That_ was a crock of shit and Jimenez knew it; Jasmine could see it in his face. They were up to something, and she realized it now...they really weren’t going to let her go so easily. Was she already ensnared within whatever wicked web they were weaving...?

Suddenly, a mental image of the hooded man she saw in her last session came to her. She could hear his words echoing in her mind like some dark lullaby and an overwhelming urge to see him again came over her. Jasmine felt that she needed to attempt to communicate with him, but she was also afraid. She didn’t want to deal with the therapy again, to feel such awful things violating her every molecule, but...

“...When is my next session supposed to be...?” Jasmine barely managed to ask, feeling her fingers tremble a little. Tatiana handed the girl her beloved teddy bear in that moment and she didn’t hesitate to pull Donnie close in an attempt to ground herself and somehow conceal her fear. She’d worry about where the older woman was keeping the stuffed animal later. The thoughts about being involved with that massive STEM machine was taking priority.

Jimenez seemed to gain an expression that indicated he was surprised that the blonde was appearing so cooperative. He didn’t realize that it could have been because she wanted him to leave, and he didn’t care. All that mattered to him was the _therapy_. “I’m scheduling it for tonight. I want you to eat a full meal and, once your body has absorbed all of the fluids in the IV bags, we shall begin. I’ll be back in roughly an hour or so.”

“...Okay.” Came the muttered reply as Jasmine decided it would be best to stare at the floor. She could focus more on her thoughts and formulating a plan of some sort. Thankfully Jimenez, and also Tatiana, left the room fairly quickly after that. Tatiana had said something, but Jasmine didn’t catch a single word of it through her distressed pondering.

Yes she was terrified, but she wasn’t sure if it was actually because of the ‘therapy’ or not. Would going under the influence of that STEM thing cause her to go into another seizure? Is that even what _really_ happened?

“ _Don’t trust Jimenez.”_ The voice of the hooded figure rang out within her mind. Jasmine gripped Donnie tighter, steeling her gaze in her resolve. Seizure or not, figment of her _subconscious_ or not, STEM and the mysterious man she met within it might be her biggest key to finding a way out of all of this. That was what a part of her hoped, anyway, but there was no backing out of it.

She knew that these assholes would force her to do the therapy no matter what she said. There was no such thing as freedom in here; merely the mild illusion of it.

Jasmine was going to shatter that very illusion right out from under everyone that was keeping her here.

Tatiana returned as Jasmine was still trying to think of ways to get out, along with somehow communicating with the hooded figure she saw before if he showed up again while she was under. The girl was so caught up in her planning that she almost didn’t notice the nurse’s entrance. At least until the food was placed in front of her, that was.

“As Dr. Jimenez said, we expect you to eat all of your food today. You haven’t been eating enough since you’ve come to Beacon and you need to keep your strength up.” Tatiana instructed as she set up what looked like an old, metal folding TV dinner tray table. Jasmine couldn’t help but make a face at the thought of the usual crap food they gave her and the older woman tutted at her as she put the actual serving tray of food atop the stand. “Come now, you won’t know if you like it or not unless you at least try a bite.”

Jasmine would have answered with a sarcastic remark about the health violations they fed the patients here at that moment if the meal presented to her hadn’t looked so...different. It was fresh. Far more fresh than anything she saw given to anyone but the staff. The quality was far higher as well, making her hold her tongue out of the mild shock she was feeling.

There was a steaming chunk of salmon that was seasoned and fresh out of the pan, a small bowl of chilled berries, and a salad made up of spinach, celery, avocado strips, tomatoes, broccoli, egg, and...were those nuts and sunflower seeds that she was seeing sprinkled heavily on the top of it? It looked like something she might find at a restaurant, and Jasmine honestly didn’t know how to react to that.

Should she be worried that they were trying to poison her with tempting deliciousness? Or would it be better to be thankful that she wasn’t having to make due with stale dinner rolls and watery mashed potatoes that smelled like dirty feet...

It would have been a pleasant change if it wasn’t for the fact that the suddenness of it all was unbelievably shady. Perhaps that was why she was so torn about eating it or not. Even as her stomach growled out in demand of sustenance, there was a part of Jasmine that suspected this meal was also a part of their plans with the STEM and the guise of it being a form of therapy.

“Be sure to drink all of this as well.” Tatiana set a large plastic cup filled with a sort of milky water next to the tray of food. It looked like a slightly greener version of whatever fluid was in the tub they had her lay in at the STEM place, and the blonde visibly leaned away from that side of the tiny table at the sight of it.

“What about my meds?” Jasmine suddenly remembered and stopped eyeing the drink like it would bite her. It was a genuine worry that she only recalled thanks to briefly thinking about the ever-present headache that was at a level of pulsing against her skull that was becoming harder to ignore. It wasn’t the same kind of swirling ‘barracuda in a tiny fish bowl’ ache that she got after forgetting to take her antidepressants for over twenty-four hours, but a headache was still a headache. It also didn’t change the fact that she hadn’t received her medication for however long she was sedated.

“You’ll get them after your session. Now drink up,” The older woman said as she motioned for the glass currently emitting a noxious aroma of medicine. Jasmine could only give a resigned nod and look back to the drink. She wasn’t happy with having her medicine intake monitored like she was a child, but didn’t say anything about it as she picked up the cup. The drink Tatiana wanted her to consume was honestly looking more unappetizing the longer it sat there. It wasn’t like she had much choice in the matter, so Jasmine lift the lip of the cup to her mouth.

The smell nearly made her hurl for a second time since she’d been awake, but it was nothing compared to the taste of the stuff. There wasn’t even any way to describe it; it was just that putrid to her palette. Jasmine had to fight just to keep it in her mouth. After using her hand to help keep it in and taking a final shuddering gulp, it was swallowed. It swirled like a storm within her stomach and not even eating a few berries could chase the taste away.

Tatiana tutted as the blonde made a face after the first sip. “None of that, now. It’s just some water with added electrolytes and other things your body needs right now. You need to drink it all if you want to get any better.”

“Yes ma’am...” Was Jasmine’s muttered reply as she took another sip and very nearly spat it back out. Tatiana seemed at least a little pleased to see the blonde tip her head back and swallow that mouthful as well, sated in her goals behind the horrid drink.

Whatever those could be.

“There we go. You’ll be feeling better in no time.” The nurse smiled that hollow smile of hers while making her way to the door once more. Jasmine was lifting the cup back to her lips and watching Tatiana leave her room with some final words to the girl. “I’ll be back soon.”

Jasmine kept the cup to her mouth even after the door closed. She was listening intently to the footsteps outside of her room moving farther away from the area, and once the sound was far enough...

Spitting out the second mouthful she’d taken in and successfully tricked Tatiana into thinking that she’d swallowed, Jasmine slid herself out from behind the tray table. It was a bit difficult, given how heavy her body still felt from having been sedated recently, but she had to get rid of the drink. She _had_ to dump it. Her gut was twisting in warning, or perhaps from what little of the liquid she’d actually ingested, yet there was no way in hell that she was going to finish drinking this shit. The food she would eat despite the suspiciousness, but this stuff was probably the biggest red flag she’d gotten so far. Something was telling her that allowing any more of the liquid into her body would be infinitely more harmful to her than the salmon or salad.

Jasmine was quick to give up her first thought of pouring it all down the drain of her tiny sink when she remembered that it might get clogged with it. That left her toilet out of the question as well, which meant she only had one other choice; the window. She didn’t even know if it would open, but still had to try.

For the sake of what little safety she could grasp, Jasmine absolutely _had_ to _get_ _ **rid**_ _of it._

It was a struggle to find purchase for her fingers against the old wood once she’d gotten to the window itself. It creaked before giving way to her pushing, though it was only and inch. Jasmine grimaced at what little a gap she had managed. Still, time could be running out for her and it would have to do for now. She just hoped no one was walking out in the yard at that moment, lest they see the stuff come dripping down the wall outside. More rain from the storm clouds still lingering about in the skies would have been perfect in that moment to prevent such an occurrence.

Unfortunately, however, Jasmine was stuck using her hand to keep the flow of the liquid heading out the window without some help from the skies. It was getting on her palm and caused her skin to tingle where it made contact, but it was a small price for getting rid of whatever the drink could be and what it might have done to her if she actually drank all of it.

It took a few moments to pour the entirety of the cup’s contents out, as well as wash her hand off, but Jasmine was back on her bed and taste-testing the salmon by the time she heard footsteps out in the hall once more. The person passed her room without so much as looking in and the girl released a soft sigh of relief. She felt so on edge, even when she was just sitting alone with some admittedly good food.

Yes, it was true that the meal was alright. Better than alright, in fact. The impending second session, however, loomed over her head like a knife or even a guillotine. Jasmine briefly wondered if this was how Damocles felt, but knew that she had no position of power to come with the approaching doom. This caused her to push the thought from her mind and focus on what she could do about the next session. She needed to speak with the hooded man through the window somehow. She _needed_ answers.

The tray was practically clean by the time Tatiana returned, save for a few sunflower seeds and some salmon skin. She found Jasmine leaning back against the wall while still seated on the bed and staring aimlessly at the intravenous port in her arm. The bags were empty as well, which was a good sign for the nurse.

“Better now?” Her voice caused Jasmine to jump faintly before she looked over with a frown.

“Not really,” The blonde muttered and lift a hand to her head with a cringe from the increased sharpness in the pain currently thrumming behind her eyes. ”I’ve had a headache since I woke up and it still hasn’t gone away. It's just been getting worse.”

“You didn’t say anything about having a headache before.” Tatiana sounded as if she were going to tut and scold the younger woman like one would a toddler. She didn’t, however, and instead pulled out a few things in order to begin safely removing the intravenous port.

“No one asked if I _had_ one...” Jasmine could only manage to grumble rather bitterly. The headache was causing her to feel a level of irritation that she wasn’t used to, but she could only try to repress it. Not a healthy way to cope with things, yes, but at least no one outside of herself would get hurt if she bottled it all up. Until it became too much and she exploded, anyway...

“I’ll be sure that Nurse Todd gets you something for it once he brings you back from your session, then.” If she could feel the blonde tensing up at the mention of the male nurse, Tatiana didn’t give any indication. She simply removed the port and taped a folded piece of gauze over the drop of blood that bubbled up from the already bruising flesh.

Jasmine couldn’t be bothered to hide a soft scoff at the mere thought of the jackass nurse mentioned; especially as her bedroom door opened to reveal the fucker's ugly face. Damn everything, why was it always _him?_

Todd stood in the doorway, eyes gleaming with barely restrained sadism as he sized the blonde up. He didn’t bother to look away when he directed his words towards Tatiana. “You called for me?”

“Yes. Miss Summers is ready for her session now, so please escort her to Dr. Jimenez.” She replied while collecting her things and heading out the door. Todd stepped aside to let her through, gaze still locked on the girl seated silently upon her bed. Her unease shone bright in her eyes, grip on her beloved teddy bear causing her hand to begin to shake faintly. She was bordering an anxiety attack and he knew it, relishing the fact that someone he saw no more than vermin was afraid of him.

“You heard her, brat,” Todd snickered as he strolled further into the room. His hand immediately clamped around the crook of her right arm, using it as leverage in yanking her to her unsteady feet while he tore Donnie from her arms and threw the teddy to the ground. “You won’t be needing this ratty thing where you’re going. Now get moving.”

Grip unrelenting despite the obvious sounds of pain coming from the young woman, Todd dragged her along behind him through the halls that lead toward the basement. Jasmine didn’t know that was the intended destination due to how hard it was to think with a headache and her nerves screaming red hot agony along her arm. She could feel his fingers digging into where the intravenous port was removed, nail slipping beneath the gauze to press directly against her wound, and it felt like the fire in her nightmare was consuming her again.

The fire that danced up her limbs, that kissed her skin and promised such devastation...

Jasmine couldn’t stop her mind from focusing on those flames as a whole dimension of pain shot through her head with a sound so shrill that she could only stumble and fall to her knees. She gripped her head with her free hand, eyes screwed shut, and teeth grinding together as the full blown migraine wracked her aching skull. As fast as the migraine had hit her, however, it was receding just as quickly.

The ringing of the ever-present headache was back to a dull roar, and in the wake of the retreating sear in her mind was an unusual sort of calm. It was cold. _Calculated._

“Hey! I didn’t say you could stop, you little bitch!” Todd snapped as he tried to wrench Jasmine back to her feet. She didn’t budge, even as there was pain from all of the nurse’s harsh yanking at her arm. The pain wasn’t a priority to her. The calm that was overcoming her quickly was urging her to focus on _everything_ Todd had done to her since she first showed up here.

What this _insect_ was _**daring**_ to do to her even now.

Rage began to fill her chest, twining with unfiltered hatred. It was terrifyingly familiar and yet so foreign to what Jasmine was so used to bottling up that she almost felt as if she were becoming a different person altogether. Her anxiety was gone, but it was being replaced with a sudden and unrelenting need to grab the man still viciously pulling at her. She wanted to take hold of him by his pathetic twig of a throat and crush his windpipe with her bare hands.

The fingers of her left hand twitching to do exactly that was what snapped Jasmine out of whatever was going on and the overwhelming urge to kill a man as if it were nothing more than killing a roach dissipated like smoke in a gust of wind.

A shiver ran down her spine when the realization of what she was about to do registered, as tempting as the thought of Todd dying a painful death was. He’d finally gotten her back to her feet while swearing under his breath and calling her all sorts of degrading things, but she couldn’t focus on him. Jasmine was too busy trying to figure out and repress whatever murderous intent she just experienced.

Only she couldn’t find it inside of her.

Jasmine couldn’t feel _anything_ left of the sensation of the being that had been taking over. It was just... _gone_...

Not only that, but there was an unbearable emptiness left in its wake. It was such a cold and hallow void that Jasmine didn’t know what to do with herself. It almost felt like a manic depressive episode, only much more suffocating. Her body, however, responded to the sensation just about the same as any other time;

It initiated total emotional shut down.

Not that it mattered for the session, as Jimenez proved upon greeting and ushering the girl to the nearest tub within the massive basement room. They were still within the hospital, but there was a STEM set up in here too. The brain was at the center as well, simply floating there within its sphere like a fellow prisoner of Beacon. There was almost an urge to greet the brain within her before the internal shut down sequence snuffed it out.

“I thought this whole therapy thing was supposed to happen at the other place?” Jasmine asked monotonously while some other nurses helped her into the tub. Todd was one of them, unfortunately, but it was easy to ignore his glaring when her mind had defaulted to not giving a shit. She didn't even care about how unnerving the soggy clothes felt against her flesh.

Jimenez glanced over from where he was standing at the terminal to her right, lips pressed into a thin line. Something was bothering him; perhaps even making him nervous. He didn’t want to answer her question, but did so anyway, “How to explain this properly...?" He paused briefly with a sigh, "The STEM you are seeing now is a prototype we’re currently in the process of converting to a wireless version where subjects can enter the system from simply hearing its signal. I thought that this would be the more... _optimal_ choice for your session today.”

“Oh joy,” Was all she bothered to remark on the situation. Jasmine settled back into the tub and stared aimlessly at the ceiling while the handful of staff bustled about her. A pair of headphones were slipped onto her head, the temperature of the liquid in the tub monitored, as well her pupils to check the response of her dilation response.

“She’s ready.” A nurse informed the doctor that was adjusting the STEM settings on the terminal still. It was almost as if his life depended on it, really, but hearing those words seemed to relax Jimenez slightly.

“Good,” He exhaled and looked to Jasmine once more. He was vaguely aware that she was responding to him with about as much emotion as Tatiana was capable of these days, but whatever else was on his mind prevented him from seeing it as an issue for the test about to be initiated. He prayed that this session gave better results, though knew that it might not be like the wired system's sessions. “Things should be slightly different from before, so we’ll discuss what you see once the session is over and if it varies from the first one or not. Now close your eyes and take a deep breath.”

Jasmine did as instructed and her ears were immediately assaulted by a sound so ungodly that it melded into the migraine from before. It wasn’t accompanied by any need to throttle people who wronged her, but she couldn’t keep from crying out in pain and gripping the sides of the tub as the sound became even sharper somehow. White knuckles, pounding eardrums, the feeling of falling before--

\--Silence.

Warm, blissful silence.

It took a few moments for the girl to force her eyelids open, but Jasmine found herself within her bedroom once she’d managed at least that much. She was curled up on her bed above the covers and clutching both Donnie and her Anubis plush, yet was still dressed in her Beacon clothes. The outfit made their usual cringe-worthy rough cloth-on-cloth noise when she sat up slowly and glanced around for a better look. There was very little light coming in from the crack in her curtain, but remembering the window and what had lain on the other side last time was enough to get her to slide off of the bed and duck under the frame of a loft bed that could never be used as such in a room with a ceiling at only seven feet.

Jasmine hurried over to the window on her still weakened legs while forgoing changing into different clothes this time. There were questions that needed answers, and the hooded figure she saw last time was fresh in her thoughts. The poor girl was still somewhat emotionally vacant, but at least the need for finding a way to escape the hospital had returned. By the gods, she prayed that the man was there and could tell her something useful...!

“Little one,” A voice called out from behind the girl just as she’d finished pulling the curtain and her fingertips brushed against the cold metal of the window's handle. Jasmine could only freeze in place for a moment. The increased paranoia from being in a mental hospital that was so poorly run and her own inner darkness made her have to force herself to so much as glance over her shoulder. She didn't know what she could be so afraid of, seeing as a part of her swore that she recognized the voice of whatever being currently standing behind her.

The presence at her back was warm and kind; familiar and welcoming. It made her fear seem silly when she finally saw the canine-headed figure standing roughly ten feet away from her.

Jasmine turned fully to see that the floor of her room had given way to a slope of sand, where her patron god patiently stood and watched her. The ceiling was nothing more than a starry sky brightened by the milky way as it stretched to an unfathomable horizon, but that wasn’t what caused once empty gray-blue eyes to brighten. It wasn’t even close to what caused the blonde to forget the window entirely and run right for the deity as fast as her legs could carry her.

Anpu caught the mortal girl right as she practically slammed against his stomach and attached herself to his waist. He didn’t even budge from the significant impact of her slightly chubby body. After all, Jasmine was but the size of a child compared to him as he was now. It comforted her for it to be this way; especially when his arms wrapped around her smaller form and he stroked her hair with one tender swipe of his hand. He wore a gentle, fatherly smile as he greeted her appropriately. “Hello, my little pup.”

“Itf-i...!” Jasmine could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as she whispered the Ancient Egyptian phrase against his stomach and hugged him even tighter. She could only repeat herself in English, almost as if in some sort of brief trance from the mixture of sheer joy at seeing him and her unrelenting depression still rooted within her brain. “My father, my papa...you wouldn’t believe how happy I am to see you right now...!” It was like being a child again, babbling away and only making little sense even to herself, but Anpu understood.

“I know,” He soothed in his deep voice and urged her to look up at him. The god's voice wasn’t cold like the hooded man’s and instead held a warmth that chased any chill in the area away when combined with the silken heat of his skin against her cheek. His next words, however, did nothing to keep out the cold dread of the circumstances of his need to appear before her: “This is quite the mess you have ended up in.”

“It’s horrible. I’m so lost about what I should do, and I’m afraid that I won’t make it out of that damn place alive, Papa...” The tears were trying to escape the barrier of her lashes again, but Jasmine pushed them back. Anpu’s hand still petting her hair helped her to do so. His fingers trailing through the darkened, unkempt blonde locks felt divine. Just like the lukewarm sand between her toes.

“You must stay strong, my pup. There are evils at work here that will do whatever it takes to use you to their own ends.” It was a warning, one that Anpu hopefully wouldn’t be leaving to settle cryptically. She _hated_ when people did that, though deities and other celestial beings thankfully tended to leave clues and let a mortal find the answers with their guidance. Oh, if only there was still time for such things here...

Jasmine gave a soft huff when she mulled over what he'd just said and felt some of her old self returning while thinking this. She even let herself pout a little despite the darker end of her thought process. “What’s so special about me? I’m just one massive disaster of depression wrapped in anxiety chocolate, with bitch sprinkles, and an anger management issues cherry on top.”

“Mn, you give yourself far too little credit. What they want is here,” Anpu said as he tapped a finger against her forehead. Jasmine squinted an eye from the action, though it didn’t hurt; it just felt weird.

Not that she voiced this as she listened to see if he might give her at least some of the information to fill in the gaps of everything that had been bothering her with this entire cluster fuck of lies hidden within a mental hospital. He could see her watching him intently for such things as he continued to stroke the back of her head. “While your mind has been your greatest enemy in the past, it is also your greatest weapon. Especially now.”

“I don’t understand...” Jasmine could only mutter with her eyebrows furrowing. She was thinking about his words, but couldn’t see what Anpu could possibly mean by them. Her self-loathing was blinding her, the deity knew, but he was as understanding with her as always. He had to be; tough love would do nothing but cause the girl to shut down, apologize endlessly, and unintentionally block him out with her subconscious. Not that tough love was what Anpu did with his children, anyway. Being around for so long did wonders for achieving the ultimate level of patience and the god was a master of it at this point.

Thus, Anpu hadn’t a single tickle of irritation or annoyance when he tried to explain what he meant clearly enough for her.

“The machine they have you in is not what they say it is, and you have done well to realize this already. Not only that, but you are able to keep the system at bay with little issue. You still remain yourself, despite your reckless actions last time, and I am proud of you for staying true to who you are.” He praised the blonde in the process of what could potentially be a lengthy outcome. Jasmine couldn’t help but smile faintly in thanks, though she had an odd feeling in her gut about what Anpu might say next and how bad it could be for her. The arm that held her from behind had been him, but she decided to thank him verbally afterwards. She kept listening intently to each vowel and ignored the feeling of impending unease as he continued to speak in that sun-warmed honey voice all of his children knew so well. “While it would be an excellent first step under normal circumstances, I fear that this situation is anything _but_ the mortal conception of normalcy. It borders into a realm that even the gods do not willingly dwell; the human mind.”

“A human mind? But...you’ve come into my dreams before, haven’t you? That was how you let me know that you really were my patron god, so that means that you had to come into my mind to do so, right?” Jasmine asked, even more confused than she had been before. Anpu gave her a look that said he hadn’t been finished speaking, so the girl quickly shut her mouth.

“Dreams are simply one layer of a human’s mind. We may enter that layer in times of need, but even then there must be conditions that allow entry. A healthy mind is a multi-layered maze that is difficult for any entity, divine or not, to navigate; on a good day. What those around you are trying to do, however, is force you into contact with a mind that is so far gone..." His tone had become quite disheartened as he went on with a strange look upon his face. "It might as well be the perils of the underworld awaiting you within that maze.”

Jasmine watched Anpu, still holding onto him as her frown refused to lessen and she found herself trying to comfort the god. Even if only by a little. “I think I know what you’re trying to say, Papa, but you can still get up on the top of the walls of a maze and figure it out that way.” It seemed to work as Anpu smiled and brushed the tangle of her bangs aside to look into those pale blue pools she called eyes.

“It is that sort of thought process that you will need to survive all of this, my pup,” He said with great tenderness as he looked upon his child. Unfortunately, Anpu’s smile faded in that moment, his silver gaze softening when the truth of the matter left his mouth with no hesitation. He didn’t want to say it, but Jasmine deserved to know the truth. She deserved to know as much as he was allowed to tell her, as well as all that she was able to pick up on her own.

“You must remember that you are stronger than you think,” Anpu loosened her grip on him so he could get down on one knee and be at eye level with the girl. She looked so tired; so worn down and far more ragged than he'd witnessed her ever become. It was hard to forget how fragile humans were when he saw one of them like this, how delicate those he chose as his children could be, but Anpu also knew how unbelievably _resilient_ they all were. “If you cannot escape from Beacon, then you will need to fight. There are things I cannot see clearly and many aspects of this situation that are unknown to even myself, yet I do know one thing. I believe in you.”

Jasmine could only grip at the god’s back as Anpu drew her into a hug, similar to when he helped her defeat an inner demon, but the atmosphere was different this time. Yes, _different_ ; almost terrifyingly so for a reason still not known to her. She could only hide her face against the smooth fur of the side of his neck and hold onto him like he might vanish from her if she let go a second time. She couldn’t even bring herself to _speak_.

Anpu held a hand to the back of her head again, soothing her, and even himself in a way. A part of him was worried. Mortals only lived so long, but what his child had been pulled into...with such a dangerous territory she was now in, he would even dare to say that he was _fearful_.

_Fearful of the fact that she may come to stand beside him in the afterlife far sooner than she should._

It had been a while since he’d felt this uneasy about a situation he had little to no control over, but he wouldn’t leave any of his children alone. He would _never_ leave them to suffer alone. Anpu had to keep his hold on the small human from becoming too tight as he spoke so softly to her that he was close to whispering.

“No matter the outcome, I will be with you. _Always_.”

Something in the way the deity spoke those words made Jasmine pull back to look at him. She studied him closely, how he somehow looked more afflicted by time than he ever had before, and his fear became her own. She could see it in the ages of mortal lives his eyes had witnessed, deepening the lines of his face, and dulling the colors of his very being like a Renaissance painting still crusted over with centuries of untouched varnish.

She’d never seen him like this before. In fact, her mind couldn’t really fathom the actuality of the meaning of what she was witnessing within the features of the god. The god that was afraid. Afraid for _her_ well-being.

He’d seen so many of his children perish, not all of their ends peaceful or kind in ways that haunted them even as he met them on the other side, but seeing their pain never lessoned his own no matter how much time passed. Gods and goddesses felt love for those they ushered under their wings. They _adored_ those they held close and urged to move forward in the tragic world of human beings. While Anpu had learned to cope with this and look to the brighter aspects of his children leaving their earthly binds and returning to him, emotional agony still came hand-in-hand with his duties.

This was what Jasmine could see as she gazed upon him, and he upon her.

What Anpu felt was something she knew and understood firsthand, despite only being in her early twenties. Far too many of her own children, her beloved pets of all kinds, had perished in her arms. The look in her father figure’s eyes was an expression that she, herself, wore many a time. A look of not knowing if someone you cherished so dearly would live or die, a look of knowing that you couldn't simply stop the world if or when they did, and how everything kept moving forward when you just wanted it to end. That was their duty; to nurture and protect those around them time and time again.

The only difference between their duties was that Jasmine couldn’t be there to greet her pets on the other side after caring for them during their lives.

She reached out to caress the length of her god's muzzle until she reached his cheek, trying to take his fear and pain away in ways she didn’t know how. There were words and questions of concern that wanted to come tumbling forth from her lips with all the rapid succession of a machine gun, tears that wanted to fall and form oceans, but all Jasmine could manage was a quivering: “Anpu...?”

There was a horrendous screeching sound that came from behind the pair; a sound unbelievably familiar to Jasmine as she whipped around with the speed of a bullet to see red light emitting from the other side of her bedroom window. Crimson bled into the night sky above, a dark liquid that looked suspiciously like blood oozing down the wall below the window, and clawed hands were raking down the fogged glass as the howl of whatever the creature those appendages belonged to tore through the suddenly frozen air once more. It was the sound of a young woman in her death throes.

The scream from Jasmine’s nightmares.

Anpu was to his feet within the fraction of a second to pull the terrified blonde behind him. He materialized his divine sceptre into his right hand, taking up a defensive stance while the outraged beast at the window clawed desperately for entry. Neither of them knew what was coming, but they didn't have to see it to know that it wasn’t good. The fragile glass of the window would only hold for so long.

“Stay behind me,” Anpu commanded, but Jasmine couldn’t find it in her to muster up so much as a squeak for a reply. She could still see the pulsing light flooding through the window's glass from where she was standing with anxiety burning through her veins and pulling air into her lungs in weak rasps. The entire area was now a blinding red, sand beneath her feet soaking up the blood now spurting through her bedroom walls and the edges of her window like water trying to escape a breaking dam. Her inner sanctuary was slowly being breached, but the true horror of it all didn’t sink in until the window finally gave. Just not in the way her or Anpu were expecting.

The window groaned as it jolted open a crack, such an unbelievably insignificant crack in size, but those spindly fingers that were covered in talons nearly longer than the digits themselves seized the opportunity to plunge through. Four of those horrid hands gripped the side of the window to slam it open and reveal the monster that lurked beyond the borders of Jasmine’s mind.

The large, scarred and bloodied torso of a multi-armed woman lurched into view with her long black hair covering the bareness of her chest and most of her face. She opened her painted lips and released another scream that shook Jasmine to her core. Unfortunately, she had little time to be afraid at just the sight of the creature shrieking. The monster was screaming at Anpu with her sights trained solely on the ancient deity now glaring all the fire of the sun at her encroaching form. The woman wasn't hiding the fact that she was going to attack him, and a new fear rapidly overtook the girl's senses.

Anpu was going to be assaulted as he protected her, maybe even _hurt_ , and there was no way in all of the afterlives that she was going to let that happen. There would be only a few seconds to prevent any injury to the god and, even though a part of her knew that he could handle it perfectly alright on his own, it wasn't enough to stop Jasmine's fear of seeing her deity harmed or the guilt inside of her from being so weak.

Anpu was always looking out for her and this is what prompted the girl to action.

Everything seemed to go into slow motion for Jasmine as she ran out from behind the jackal-headed ancient she loved so much. He barely registered that she’d moved into the creature’s line of sight until her small hands shoved at him. She was shoving him with all of her strength, the sheer will to get Anpu out of harm’s way giving the girl the power she needed within her own mind. It pulsed from her palms and sent him sliding a good two yards though the wet sand just in time for the hands to bypass him entirely.

All four arms had elongated and slammed into the blonde with all the force of a bullet train. They wrapped around her limbs in a vice, the woman running at her and screaming once more as the bloody sand collided with Jasmine’s back. She could vaguely hear Anpu call out to her as the breath was forced from her lungs from the attack. The ground beneath the two females gave way before the smaller of the two could even attempt to turn her head in hopes of seeing him one last time.

They fell into darkness while the creature released another of her agonized shrieks right into Jasmine’s face. It felt as if she was going to tear her apart with those damnable claws tearing into cloth to pierce the vulnerable flesh of her upper arms and calves mercilessly. There was a second where the girl’s mind contemplated just allowing this thing to kill her just to take the pain away; to let everything come to an end. She could apologize to Anpu once she reached the underworld, but her fight or flight response heard that despairing thought and kicked in. _Hard._

Gritting her teeth, Jasmine struggled to grab the arms clasped around her own as her legs kicked and twisted to get free. The adrenalin from the anxiety was still fire in her veins, the flushing heat of anger along her nerves, and she pushed herself to fight. Fight to live, fight to see her family again, fight so Anpu wouldn’t have to do so in order to keep one of his many children safe.

If she fought this thing and died in the end anyway, then a least she could meet her gods with her head held high in the knowledge that she met her death tooth and nail.

Finally, pale hands clamped around the monster woman’s forearms and Jasmine glared right into the nearly white, startled and furious eyes of her opponent. The object of her demise or not, there would be no easy ends here. For either of them. She was prepared to headbutt the mangled bitch with the intent to make this one hell of a fight, but stopped herself when she noticed the creature begin to... _change._

It started from where her right hand was resting, the marred flesh morphing into the soft sleeve of a red dress. This transformation continued the longer the pair held on to one another; going up, up, up and spreading out like water from a fallen glass until Jasmine was met by the gentle smiling face of a beautiful girl. She looked to be aged somewhere in her middle to late teens.

The more the monster turned into this teenager, the more Jasmine began to feel someone else's emotions flood into her. There was so much pain, such sadness and anger, such a burning need for _vengeance._ It crashed in and filled her up to such a degree that she felt a sudden wetness overflow from her eyes to trickle down her cheeks. There appeared to be something else lurking beneath the hurricane of emotional disaster washing into Jasmine, too. Something that the blonde could identify with as soon as she had unburied it from the jumble of seething hatred and crippling sorrow.

_Guilt._

Misplaced guilt, a type of guilt everyone felt at least once in their life, but perhaps some of the worst guilt a person could be burdened with. Yes, Jasmine knew the sensation well, but _this_ guilt was...it was unbelievable. Endlessly _maddening_. How could anyone stand to feel this way? How could anyone _live_ with it eating at them day after day to such a degree?

Jasmine choked on a sob as she stared at the teen before her and let these feelings become a part of her in hopes to understand it all somehow. Her tears barely fell past her cheeks before they lifted and floated off into the nothing while the younger girl’s similar blue eyes practically sparkled as they lit up in concern. Her ebony hair shifted while she leaned in closer to Jasmine, tilting her head and placing a hand against the freckled cheek before her.

“What’s the matter? Are you feeling ill?” She asked kindly, perhaps even in a maternal manner, and Jasmine couldn’t breath when the gesture ignited a swelling heat and fluttering within her chest. Her chest burned with a newfound mixture of emotions as the teen fretted over her more in such an affectionate way. “Do you have a fever?”

Unable to stop herself, Jasmine threw her arms around this girl’s shoulders and pulled her close in a tight hug. To her, though she had no idea who this person that used to be a monster was, it was as if she had just seen someone she loved like no other after ages of no contact. Jasmine couldn't release her grip, only wanting to hold her close and never let her go. If she let her go, she would loose her all over again.

The blonde’s mind didn’t bother acknowledging the fact that it knew that last thought wasn’t her own this time, nor that those emotions were simply bleeding into her from some unseen source still. It just melded how similarly Jasmine felt when seeing Anpu with the combination of such a strong familial love and proceeded to soak in everything that had been poured into the strange entity now wrapping her arms around Jasmine. She wasn’t hinting that she noticed the two of them were practically floating in an empty abyss and simply cradled the other girl like she was her younger sibling that had just started bawling over scraping her knee.

“Ruben...? Are you alright?” The girl asked softly and the name startled Jasmine. 'Ruben'...she knew that name from somewhere, didn’t she...? As she struggled to remember anything to do with the name while still in the caring embrace of the other female, the darkness rippled around them.

Jasmine gasped and arched backwards when a shrill noise assaulted her ears and drilled into her head. It stabbed into her mind, images flashing before her unseeing eyes as everything that attacked her senses from the first session leapt upon her once more. She couldn’t feel it at first, not with the clear picture of that brain in the spherical jar blinding and filling her with such a burning fury. That image was all that mattered, searing itself into her five senses like clothing melting onto skin beneath the coaxing of famished flames.

She could see the tag on the side of the glass ball, the name it held, and her lips moved to utter that very name like some dark incantation.

“ _Ruben Victoriano.”_

A flash of light, blaring alarms of systems on the fritz, and what seemed like someone yelling and shouting out orders down a tunnel. These were the sounds that Jasmine jolt into complete consciousness to. She found herself back in the STEM room, her eyes darting back and forth to the people running about the tub she was still laying in, a cluster of hands of all sizes grabbing at her. Someone was screaming, it may have even been her, but the blonde’s hearing was full of nothing except that piercing ringing from before as she struggled against the nurses. She had to get out. Get away from all of them.

Jimenez was trying to keep her still within the tub alongside everyone else, shouting over his shoulder for something, and the girl lashed out at him first. Jasmine didn’t exactly know why she did, body jolting and her forehead colliding with the doctor’s chin seemingly of its own accord. He stumbled back to regain himself, shouting some more while the girl twisted and flailed her entire body in a futile attempt to free herself from the nurses’ clutches.

Something caught her eye when Jimenez rushed out of her line of sight and she had to strain to get a better look. It was flash of tattered, blood and ash stained clothing; the charred ends of a part of a white robe that was being worn by--

“--You...?” Jasmine croaked out and ceased her fight against those holding her down. She was staring at the hooded man from the first session, but he was actually standing in the STEM room this time. Right beside her tub, in fact. He was as silent as a statue as he watched her, studying her like he had the last time they met. She could see the cold grey eyes usually hidden in the shadows of his hood and shivered beneath the unrelenting glare they held, yet found herself unable to look away. There was perhaps even some intrigue within those deadly hues, but her attention was quickly diverted from the male's gaze to the thin, heavily scarred finger that he raised to his equally scarred lips. Those trauma-darkened lips were twitching up at the corners and seemed to cast some unknown enchantment over her with that simple action alone.

He was telling Jasmine to be silent in that single, voiceless motion. She could only comply with a slight nod of her head while she settled back into the water in a manner that was utterly docile. Was he going to tell her something? Was he going to tell her how to get out of here so she could finally go home...?

That was when a headache slammed against the inside of her skull with little warning and pitched right into a migraine that had Jasmine crying out and squeezing her eyes shut. The hooded male was gone when she managed to crack an eye open a few seconds later and she felt dismay at this. There was absolutely no trace of him in the room. No one had even acknowledged his existence.

Feeling fatigued from trying to think about a million things at once that involved that single instance alone, Jasmine _almost_ didn't register that Jimenez was soon in the younger man's place. _With a syringe in hand._

She let out a soft shriek at the sight of the infernal instrument gleaming menacingly within the sharp lighting, knowing full well that it was a sedative shot and flying into a panicked state like never before. A part of her didn’t understand why she reacted that way, seeing as she was afraid of needles, but never to this degree, and yet it didn’t matter. She’d ended up kicking a nurse in the face and freeing one of her legs anyway. Jasmine was pretty sure she hit someone else with that same foot, but more people descended upon her in a great wave.

“Let go of me! LET GO OF ME YOU FUCKING PIGS!!! _I’LL KILL YOU, YOU HEAR ME!?_ _ **I’LL KILL ALL OF YOU!!!**_ ” A wild rage suddenly overcame her as she shouted and struggled with all of her might. This was another emotion she didn’t recognize as her own, though it was different from the collected ire she felt before. This anger was untamed and unfocused, but the poor girl was no match for Beacon’s staff even with what strength it added to her thrashing. All it took was sharp jab of pain to the arm and more useless struggling before unconsciousness ebbed in to chase away the unknown fury that didn’t belong to her particular temper.

Jasmine could only feel dread and misery when she finally surrendered, sobbing, to the inky realm of sedated slumber. This was a sort of sleep she was coming to hate with all of her being. Sleep she was coming to fear with her very soul.

It wasn’t only Jasmine who would unwillingly fall into unconsciousness that night.


	3. The Edge of Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams can reveal many a thing, and perhaps even the way out of Beacon.  
> Either way, freedom comes at a price; whether you reach it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant for this chapter to come out WAY before now, but life happened and I was trying to put too much in a single chapter and it turned out to be about 40 pages long; even while unfinished. I ended up splitting the original chapter three into two pieces and it now is chapters three and four. Four still needs to be finished, but at least I finally get to post chapter three!  
> I plan for things to start kicking up in chapter four and onward, so I'm pretty excited for that~

The thing about the heavy sedation clinging to every inch of Jasmine’s being like rain-soaked clothing, was that there was an unnerving sense of _something_ being right there with her as well.

It was something that was curled against her small and vulnerable frame as it whispered chilling promises of a pain so exquisite that all else would never compare. It was some _ **one**_ that cupped her throat and chin in one large, scarred hand and murmured all the things that were going to fall upon those that wronged them. Everyone at Beacon would pay, everyone that took whatever they pleased and left them nothing more than empty shells and abominations.

This voice only grew muddled over time before the presence faded away completely and left Jasmine alone in the darkness of her mind. The sedation, on the other hand, remained.

Jasmine was entirely expecting the nightmares of burning alive to come for her soon. Her poor stressed out body could already feel the flames suckling against her nerves, but the sensation washed away as soon as the fleeting thought occurred.

Instead of sobbing on a pile of straw to a symphony of a teenage girl’s dying shriek as they _both_ were ablaze, the blonde found herself fluttering her eyes open. Unfortunately, she was met with the ceiling of her room at Beacon. Her first thought was to check if she was strapped down to the bed like in the second nightmare that had occurred last time.

Relief washed over Jasmine when she bolted upright and found her limbs free of any binds. There was a lack of an intravenous drip as well, which was a slight reassurance that nothing _too_ horrible had occurred while she was unconscious. This solace was temporary, however, when a sense of dread began to trickle into the depths of her gut. It only took the blonde a few seconds to realize what was causing the sickening sensation.

An overwhelming silence.

There was night outside of her window, yes, but Beacon had never been _this_ quiet before. There were no distant sounds of a radio or the nurses gossiping as they pushed carts up and down the hall for the hourly patient check. No other patients muttering to themselves in their own rooms down the hall, and not even the janitorial staff she once heard whistling as he spun his key ring around his finger while passing through the hall.

No. This was a pure, chilling silence; the complete opposite of the one she experienced when being put under STEM’s influence. It seemed much more harsh and foreboding, almost like some monster was going to burst into her room and try to kill her any second now.

She noticed that her door was ajar at that moment, and that just made the entire situation even _more_ unsettling.

Yeah, there was no way Jasmine was going to take the obvious bait and leave the room. She didn’t consider herself smart, but she also knew that she wasn’t _that_ stupid. It would be just her luck that Todd would be the one to catch her the moment she stepped foot outside of the doorway. Then he’d curse her out and take the opportunity to throw her into solitary, which was also known as the locked ward.

As she frowned at the thought of what horrors the locked ward could possibly hold and went to take hold of her teddy bear, a strange sound caused the girl to pause. It was a sort of clicking noise, one Jasmine recognized, but this was a mental hospital and something like that _couldn’t_ be in the building.

She nibbled on her lower lip a bit as the sound went on, slowly, for a few more seconds before it stopped. While her anxiety was screaming to slam the door shut and just wait for morning as whatever this was passed, a part of her felt that this wasn’t something that would simply go away if ignored. In fact, it was almost as if the once-steady clicking sound was an invitation. If only the atmosphere of the hospital itself wasn’t ten times as ominous as it usually was...

Jasmine inhaled and exhaled steadily to calm herself before she took a hold of Donnie’s arm and got up from her bed. A quick peek wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Her feet carried her to the door with muted steps while her pulse was pounding in her ears and her body threatened to begin shaking as she pulled the door open a little further. Jasmine could feel a bit of excitement, along with her fear, but it was enough to keep her from scurrying back to her bed and hiding under the blankets like a child would.

Once the gap in the doorway was wide enough, Jasmine stuck her head out a little. She couldn’t see anything at first and there was no internal debate when she braced her free hand against the inside of her door frame and inched further out. That helped considerably, allowing blue eyes to spot a mass of tawny fur near the end of the hallway.

Smooth desert-hued coat, a slender form with large triangular ears above sparkling golden eyes, and a narrow muzzle. Jasmine hadn’t been mistaken in what she suspected the sound had come from as she allowed herself to step from the doorway more while staring at the creature with awe.

It was a coyote, the nails making the same clicking noise from earlier as it shifted its weight while never breaking eye contact with the girl. This coyote, unlike others the girl had encountered within her life, was unafraid and had no intentions of running from her. Not that Jasmine was attempting to approach it when she finally let go of the door frame and stepped fully into the light of the hallway. She no longer feeling any fear.

While normal people would wonder what a coyote was doing in a facility like this in the first place, Jasmine knew exactly what the animal symbolized for her. It almost made her laugh, really, and the warm fluttering in her chest brought a smile to her face.

After all, coyotes were known as _American jackals_.

“Did itf-i send you...?” Jasmine asked softly. She knew now that this must have been a dream, yet the sight of the canine was soothing her nerves.

Tilting its head slightly at the sound of her voice, the coyote turned around and took a few steps toward the open doors at the end of the hallway. It paused to glance at the blonde from over its shoulder before beginning to walk away again. Jasmine took that as a signal that it wanted her to follow, which she did eagerly as she kept Donnie tucked under one arm. Hopefully it meant that Anpu was trying to send her a message or sign of some sort. He wasn’t here entirely as himself, but that was perfectly alright. This was enough.

The coyote led Jasmine through the doors and in a direction of hallways that she’d never been down before. It would make sure that she was still following closely every now and then, but hardly altered its pace otherwise.

Jasmine didn’t either. She trotted along through the maze of identical halls and empty rooms, the coyote taking her into areas where there weren’t even nurses’ stations as the two made their way deeper into Beacon. Jasmine took those moments to be thankful that she wasn’t experiencing the unusually chronic headache she had been in the waking world.

Unfortunately, the silence surrounding her and her canine companion kept the ringing in her ears from completely going away.

 _No matter,_ the girl thought. A little ringing in the ears wasn’t enough to be a distraction from whatever the desert canid wanted to show her. Jasmine hoped they would reach whatever it was soon...

The coyote slowed to a stop the moment she had that thought, turning to face her before it sat down and looked to its left. Jasmine came to a stop as well, mere feet from her guide, and turned her head in the direction as well. All she was met with was a door with a plaque reading ‘Staff Only’ on it and frowned softly.

“Here...?” She asked the coyote after turning to look at it with concerned curiosity. Why would she have been brought _here_ , of all places? Either way, the coyote wasn’t budging as it continued to stare at the door. That left the girl with very little doubt that she was supposed to go in there.

Sighing through her nose and steeling herself for what might be awaiting her on the other side, Jasmine found herself petting the coyote’s head for a little extra comfort. It didn’t shy away from her touch and almost seemed to encourage it after a second or two. This had her smiling faintly at feeling the pressure of her touches, not too bothered by the absence of a texture of the fur slipping through her fingers. It was a dream, after all; not STEM.

“Alright, I guess I don’t have much of a choice. I’ll go in there.” Jasmine leaned down to kiss her guide on the head, a habit from having so many pets in her life, and approached the door as she moved her teddy bear to under her left arm. She didn’t understand much of the hesitation within her, given that this was a dream, so there shouldn’t have been anything too horrible lurking behind the old metal.

A flash of the two nightmares, though mainly the one where she was burning alive, caused the blonde to shudder. She had to practically force herself to grab the handle and Jasmine couldn’t keep from scoffing at how pathetic she felt. The handle turned a fraction of an inch--and stopped.

Locked.

 _Figures,_ She thought bitterly. However, Jasmine got an odd idea about the clearly aged door and began to jiggle the handle with a deep concentration she wasn’t quite used to. Much to her surprise, the lock gave way and she was able to pull the door open. She couldn’t help but grin at her guide before peeking in.

It was a locker room for what looked like the nurses. The lights were brighter in the room compared to the hallway, which caused Jasmine to squint a bit, but the use of the room was pretty obvious. From the lockers, to what looked to be spare uniforms for both the male and female nurses; a locker and perhaps even changing room. The layout of the room was quickly forgotten when something on the floor seemed to shimmer.

Jasmine opened the door wide enough to step in and reach down to grasp the small item. It was a Beacon card with a nurse’s name tag that had been on the floor next to it, but above all...

“It’s a key card,” Jasmine exhaled in wonder. The name tag read ‘Tatiana Gutierrez’, who was the woman that worked both as a nurse here and some sort of office woman at that other place, but that may have been what was confusing the blonde. She never once saw any of the nurses with a card like this. They had their little rectangular name tags pinned to the front of their dark red blazers, but not cards like these.

This card seemed far too high-tech for a place as crappy as Beacon. Perhaps they hid them in their pockets under the blazers? Jasmine sometimes saw Jimenez with a clip similar to the card’s sticking out of the front left pocket of his doctor’s coat. Smart thing to do while working with a bunch of people unstable enough to try to kill you or themselves with cards like this.

She turned the card around a few times before glancing over her shoulder to where the coyote remained seated in the doorway. “Is this what you wanted me to find? Do I need it to access something?” Her questions were met with silence, but her guide stood up and began to move out of sight.

“Hey! Wait up!” She called after the canine while running to keep from losing sight of it. Thankfully Jasmine saw it turn the corner at the end of the hall once she hurried out of the locker room. She rushed to catch up and turned the corner herself, only to grind to a halt.

The coyote had waited for her, but turned and trotted through a closed door like one would expect of a ghost once the girl was in sight once more. It was a large door, illuminated by a single dim bulb hung above it, but it had a card reader on the wall beside it. Was this a back door in Beacon? It was on the opposite side of the back building and obviously didn’t lead to the garden.

Maybe it was the nurses’ exit for when their shifts were done with and they didn’t want to walk all the way to the front entrance? A back entrance for the few security guards she would catch glimpses of outside? Jasmine didn’t know, but she sure as Hades wasn’t about to lose her companion because of it.

She ran to the door and fumbled with her teddy bear and the card for a moment, soon getting how said card was supposed to go and pressing it into the panel. The panel beeped, something in the door clicked, and Jasmine was able to push it open as it gave an unhappy creak against the night air that rushed in to blow her hair about her face. She couldn’t feel it against her skin, but her brain informed her that it was supposed to be lukewarm.

Her guide was sitting down on the other side of the doorway in anticipation of the girl’s exit from the building. This was a relief, yet Jasmine wondered what else the coyote had to show her. Didn’t it already just reveal a way of getting out of Beacon with a lessened risk of getting caught?

Given that the information in the dream was correct, anyway.

Standing, the coyote took off again; this time toward the back fence lined with bushes and vines. Jasmine followed without a word and saw the animal wiggle through a gap in the wrought iron bars when she bent down to peer through the bushes. The canine was able to worm its way through easily, but the blonde knew it wouldn’t be the case for her even before she dropped to her knees at the fence.

Jasmine had to make sure that her companion was waiting for her again before she could really focus on finding a way through, though it was most likely going to be _over_ , the property’s physical boundary. Climbing honestly looked far more harrowing, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her.

That was, at least, before she noticed that one of the two bars that her furry friend had squeezed through wasn’t straight anymore.

“Yes...!” The girl uttered to herself as she took hold of the bar with both hands and gave it a mighty shove. The rusted weldings gave way and Jasmine squeezed herself and her stuffed animal through with little difficulty. Thank the gods for old, neglected fencing; dream or not.

The two were moving again within seconds, the coyote leading at a steady trot. It was a pace the blonde could keep up with perfectly as she glanced around to the buildings they were passings. They looked like apartments, big city apartments, but warranted very little thought when she was running down the center of a main street. It wasn’t merely one street, either. It was many that were crowded with empty cars and covered in an oily sheen as if having been under the assault of a recent drizzle.

Yet Jasmine never stopped moving. So long as her guide kept going, then so did she; even if she didn’t know exactly where they were going and could only keep Donnie tucked in the crook of one arm. Between the houses thinning out into businesses that were getting farther apart the more time and distance dragged on, it was almost like they were leaving the city limits.

 _Home,_ She suddenly found herself thinking with a flicker of hope igniting within her. _The coyote must_ _be_ _leading_ _me_ _out of the city, in the direction of home...!_

There was no avoiding the tears that brimmed in her eyes, but Jasmine didn’t stop as she rapidly blinked them away. If fact, her speed picked up right as they hit what looked like the start of a decently-sized forest.

It was such a strange transition between a big city and nature, one that should have been foreboding in the wavering moonlight, yet the pair remained undeterred while unkempt roads gave way to hazardous paths beneath the trees, and even a small bridge that led deeper into what seemed like a mixture of forest and countryside. Leaves crunched beneath paws and bare feet, huffed breaths remained invisible against the night air that should have rightfully been becoming cold, and Jasmine didn’t know that it was even possible to feel as optimistically as she did in that moment.

Her guide halted sharply and without much warning moments before the girl’s hopes of home shattered when she saw it was due to a massive pair of gates. Intricately designed, metal gates that she couldn’t stop quickly enough to avoid hitting.

The right gate gave way and swung inward when Jasmine’s form collided into it. She had to grasp onto the unmoving left gate just to keep herself from either dropping her beloved stuffy or falling flat on her face. There was no telling if she would be willing to get back up once she’d fallen now that the prospect of going home had been taken from her again.

The blonde was surprised that she hadn’t already dropped to her knees and started screaming in frustration at that point. Perhaps that was thanks to the fact she was clinging so desperately to the iron gate keeping her upright, or perhaps it was the sight of a manor looming just within the property, but Jasmine somehow managed to keep herself standing as she stared up at the mansion practically glaring down at her. It was almost a menacing sight within the moonlight and faded yellow glow of actual functioning _light bulbs_.

Fog rolled into the large courtyard that was overgrown with grass and weeds, making the whole scene seem like something out of one of the many horror films Jasmine loved to watch so much.

She wasn’t afraid at the sight of what was before her. Jasmine knew that this wasn’t a place she’d ever been to before despite a deep sense of familiarity with the property, so fear was far from her mind. Aggravation was what was mostly prevalent at the moment, anyway.

This aggravation at not being shown the way home, however, was quickly pushed aside by curiosity. She had to have been brought to this place for a reason, right? Yes, she was here for a reason, but...

Jasmine looked over her shoulder to the coyote for confirmation of whether or not she was supposed to actually be there. It was the only thing she could do upon realizing that she was unable to find her voice through what she noticed was her own heavy breathing, but all her canine companion did was lie down and stare at her. It seemed that she no longer had a guide, since its only task must have been to lead her to such a hidden place.

“I guess I have to say goodbye to you for now, huh...?” Jasmine somehow managed to mutter over her regulating panting. She steadied herself on her feet before standing fully and her empty hand slipped from the gate once she did. The coyote, of course, didn’t respond as it continued to lie there and stare without so much as opening its mouth to also pant from their lovely marathon through the night.

That little detail, along with the fact she couldn’t feel any stinging in her throat or chest from the heavy breathing, reaffirmed to the blonde once again that she was dreaming. She couldn’t help but give a weary, somewhat bitter laugh at this. The girl wasn’t exactly sure why she did this other than how all she wanted to go was home. Jasmine didn’t want any more riddles, didn’t want to wrack her exhausted mind over things she had yet to understand, but there seemed to be no escaping it with the situation she was stuck in.

“...I really hope that whatever is in this place is important enough for all of this, pooch.” Sighing softly at her own words, Jasmine smiled to the canine and moved to set Donnie next to it. She propped the teddy bear up against the coyote and pat both of their heads affectionately. “But thank you for leading me this far. Would you send my thanks to Anpu as well, if it isn’t any trouble?”

The coyote actually _nodded_ at her final question, though made no move other than the inclination of its head as the girl stood once more. This kept Jasmine’s smile in place for a moment longer before she turned her attention back to a sight most would probably consider at least a _little_ bit eerie. It was almost as if the manor was waiting for her in some predatory fashion, but there was something in there that she was meant to see. Jasmine tried to keep that in mind as she stepped past the gate’s threshold and into the fog-filled, circular, and carless driveway.

It swirled around her legs as she walked along, only looking back when she heard the right gate swinging shut and securing itself. There would be no leaving this place until it was time.

“Yeah, that’s not creepy at _all,_ ” Jasmine huffed in mild amusement and made her way across the massive, unkempt yard. There was a large fountain poking out of the mist, though it was void of any water and now filled with grass and weeds; just like the rest of the yard. It was almost as if something that was once so glorious was left to rot away at the hands of nature and time.

 _The inside of the mansion is probably the same,_ The young woman found herself thinking. She’d seen places like this before; buildings once full of life that were simply abandoned for one reason or another and allowed to fall apart. Jasmine used to explore some of those buildings around her homes as a child.

Thinking about it as she reached the front steps, this need to explore the house in search of something unknown to her, was all sort of...nostalgic. It probably shouldn’t have been, but that was the feeling Jasmine was getting. I made her feel warm in this otherwise sensationless dream.

Feet leading her up the steps slowly, Jasmine was surprised that the front doors didn’t swing open in some inviting manner. She pushed one open herself instead and slipped into the mansion with less caution than she would have had most other times. It wasn’t as bright within the building as it had been out in the front yard, but the girl could still make out some things.

Fog was in the house as well, unfortunately, but it couldn’t conceal the massive pair of stairs that led up to the second floor in the form of a horseshoe below a massive unlit chandelier. This was definitely a place where a rich person or family lived.

Jasmine moved forward and headed toward the area behind where the staircases practically framed what was clearly a wall. More than that, however, it was where all of the lighting was located. The girl could see the reason for this the more she walked through the fog.

A life-size portrait.

It was of a family consisting of both parents, what must have been their son, and a daughter. Jasmine felt her gut and heart wrench as she peered upon the daughter in the painting and recognized her immediately. The monster that had attacked her, the creature that gave way to the very girl that was staring out at her from the painting. It hurt to see her image here, for some bizarre reason.

“ _Ruben...? Are you alright?”_

That tender, compassionate voice echoed within Jasmine’s memories. ‘Ruben’. She could only think of the name on the side of the glass sphere that held the brain attached to the STEM machine; _Ruben Victoriano_. However, if this had something to do with that very brain and whoever it previously was a part of...

This wasn’t making any sense. There were only so many pieces given, jumbled and unclear, and Jasmine was practically scratching at her _own_ brain as she tried to figure it out. Did she need more to this puzzle? Or was she simply not smart enough to read the signs all but smacking her right in the face?

 _Knowing how much of an idiot I am? I’m going with the latter,_ The blonde thought bitterly to herself. She continued to stare at the painting holding faces so familiar, yet almost completely unknown to her. Jasmine couldn’t help but think that, from this painting alone, it was painfully obvious just how prestigious this family was. The way they dressed, their expressions, and how they held themselves.

She noticed the sunflower the mother was holding in her lap and could only silently ponder when the memory of the massive sunflower field surfaced briefly. She must have liked sunflowers a lot, so perhaps her husband had a whole acre or two of the mammoth, scentless flowers planted. Sunflowers spreading to the farthest horizon; all for his wife.

It was still a little hard to figure out where the memories of such places came from and if they really were connected to one another. The field, fire eating her alive, this mansion...

The answers seemed so close that Jasmine could taste the metallic tang of completion on her tongue. Just a few more pieces, a couple scraps or tidbits that could firmly connect the dots, and the mystery would hopefully be hers.

“I’ll need to see if I can actually find anything here...” Jasmine murmured to herself after a few more moments of studying the painting. She had to force her feet to carry her away from the portrait, intending to move to one of the sets of stairs to explore the top floor. The harsh squeaking of some sort of wheel left unoiled for many years, however, had her moving away from the right staircase to see what might have caused such a sound.

There wasn’t anything that hadn’t been there before and the girl could only shudder faintly at a sudden creeping unease that was whispering along her spine. Was someone else in the mansion with her...?

Before Jasmine could entirely contemplate trying to find something to defend herself with, despite technically being a trespasser, the wheel sound came again. It made her cringe from such a shrill, grating noise, but the blonde grit her teeth and moved around the area to find the source. Said source came into view as soon as she ducked under one of the staircases.

It was an old, battered wheelchair that had clearly seen better days and looked unbelievably out of place in such a house. Jasmine couldn’t help but feel a strange sort of wonder at the handicap device as she slowly approached it and reached her hand out to touch one of the handgrips.

The wheelchair shrieked as it jolted forward a few inches, away from the girl, and stopped once more. There was a distinct air of someone messing with her around the action, and Jasmine let out a soft huff before shooting her hand toward the chair at such a speed that it didn’t have a chance to budge so much as a centimeter more when her fingers wrapped around the handle like a vice. The moment she touched the wheelchair was also the moment the girl instantly regretted doing so.

Physical sensations burst to life within the dream with that all too familiar sensation of the hungry heat of flames slithering up along Jasmine’s limbs and face. It did so in such a rapidly furious fashion that it tore a pained cry from her throat and caused her to stumble. She reflexively pulled back from the wheelchair, as if it had been what had burned her, but no blemishes or fire appeared to accompany the lingering agony.

Jasmine leaned forward and gripped her head in an attempt to find something else to focus on, realizing rather quickly that this episode wasn’t going to be leaving her any time soon. Even as the heat from unseen flames subsided, the sensation of accelerating burns trickled to an unnerving feeling of not really having any pain at all while still being in unbelievable anguish around those areas. Time proceeded with seconds accented by the breaths that shook the blonde’s pale form. The horrid varying degrees of pain returned, something that felt as if large areas of her skin were being cut and pulled and rubbed away, and finally distinguished into an uncomfortable numbness that, somehow, wasn’t numb; all at the same time.

Yes, Jasmine realized with disbelief as she uncurled and stared at her cat and fence scratch-scared and freckled arms. The areas that had been burned in the nightmare Jasmine had after her first venture into STEM had gone into a mixture of complete numbness with moments of inconsistent crippling pain and annoying itchiness that lingered at the edges of what were most likely phantom scars.

It wasn’t a normal sort of numb or, either. Jasmine rubbed her arms and stomped her feet, even going far enough to dig her nails into her bottom lip and chin, but the loss of feeling persisted in limbs she used to be able to feel far too much of her own pain in. It was like they were partially dead at the ends; perhaps even some sort of parasitic alien life form as she watched her fingers move, her hands open and close, but didn’t feel even half of the movements being made. She couldn’t so much as feel a good portion of her toes as she wiggled them about. Such a feeling of damaged nerves that must have never consistently gotten the right treatment to regrow properly, the memories of the nightmare of burning alive...

In that moment, an image of the hooded man she’d seen a few times flashed through her mind with the scars upon his face standing out the most in that moment. Were these things that he experienced in his life, or...?

An anxiety attack began to rear its ugly head at the recent development that was ripe for a massive meltdown. It slammed the girl’s heart against the inside of her chest and made it harder to breath, as if a pair of fingers were gradually pinching her windpipe shut, but the attack wasn’t allowed to steal Jasmine’s focus entirely.

The wheelchair squeaked when it began to move on its on again, though it showed no signs of stopping. Jasmine yelped softly at the noise the tires made, not to mention with how she realized that she would lose sight of the chair if she didn’t follow.

She fought with the haze the anxiety was slowly spewing into her thoughts and stumbling on borderline sensationless feet as she rushed to catch up to the handicap device. It was hard, given the fact that Jasmine was experiencing an inconsistent feeling of various areas of her body, yet she pushed to keep moving no matter how many times she had to brace herself against something when her feet would trip on themselves every other step.

The distance the wheelchair lured Jasmine along wasn’t far, despite how her stumbling made it seem so. The chair never got too far ahead of the girl and she began to notice some feeling returning to her skin. It was mostly pain, but each few feet that her and the chair moved onward, the more sensation began to tingle back to life within Jasmine’s hands and face.

It honestly wasn’t much, but compared to the sheer nothingness before? Jasmine was relieved when she could feel her own fingertip against her bottom lip. It was nowhere near the range of touch that she was accustomed to, yet it was enough.

When the wheelchair stopped, pulling the blonde from her thoughts, it had halted in front of a door. Jasmine admired the decorations that adorned the metal before her for for a few seconds, albeit from a distance. Something about the door didn’t quite seem right to her. Still, the girl wasn’t sure why she felt this way and was about to quietly scold herself for being ridiculous about a door when she saw what her gut was warning her about.

Something was attached to the door handle.

Jasmine probably would have missed the faint glint of what was a hair thin wire if she wasn’t such a stickler for details. This was more than likely due to her hobbies of art and writing, but she was glad she saw it before she had the chance to grab and push the handle down like a moron. The wire was meticulously looped around the end of said handle and strung through a tiny hole that had been drilled into the door just below it.

This looked like maybe it was a part of some trap. Jasmine could only shiver at that thought as she backed up, noticing that the wheelchair wasn’t doing the same. Apparently she needed to go through that door, but no way in any afterlife was she going to touch that handle with her bare hand. She might lose it if she did. The girl sighed and began looking around, knowing that she had to find something long enough to poke at it while keeping a safe distance.

It was almost like a sort of puzzle when one thought about it, really. Get a door open without losing a limb. Fun, right?

An amused snort left Jasmine at her own thoughts on the matter as she backtracked through the mansion in search of anything to use. There were plenty of candle holders, but that didn’t make the distance between her hand and whatever that door was plotting a comfortable one. What Jasmine needed was...

“Perfect!” The blonde exclaimed once she’d spotted something in what looked like a massive pantry and snatched it up. Running wasn’t easy, being a walking mess of whatever the hell was going on with her nerves right now, but Jasmine still hurried back to where the door and wheelchair awaited her return.

She held up the old broom she was armed with, much like a weapon, and ducked behind the wheelchair before putting her little improvised plan into action. Jasmine slid her hand to the very end of the broom’s stick and used the wheelchair back to steady her tool. She cursed herself when she noticed her hands shaking, but refused to stop as she took a breath to calm herself. Her glassesless gaze narrowed, surprisingly sharp in this bizarre dream state.

The girl braced herself for whatever was to come as she hooked a corner of the broom’s head against the door handle. She allowed the weight of the broom to force the handle down with a eerie click. There was a twang when the handle reached a certain angle, the wire snapping back to disappear into the hole. Jasmine ducked behind the wheelchair completely while a whirring sound filled the air at a deafening volume--

\--Then all sharply fell silent.

Jasmine cautiously peeked out from behind the chair to see that nothing, other than the wire vanishing into the door, had happened. The door was completely intact with no triggered traps anywhere in sight. Had it been a false trap to prevent someone from wanting to mess with the door? Was it simply a dud?

...Yeah, Jasmine wasn’t buying it.

Her intuition was warning her with that familiar unease tingling in her gut. The only thing Jasmine could think to do, however, was simply push the door open with the broom and shove something into whatever room was on the other side. Something was telling her to tread lightly here, or it might just cost her all of the progress she’d made just to get to this point in the dream. Nothing could ever be simple anymore, could it?

The answer to that question came when the door was urged to swing open and a rack of rusted spikes claimed the head of the broom. Jasmine stared in, surprisingly muted, shock as wood splinters flew past her from the force of the rack’s landing. To say that she was glad she hadn’t just waltzed right into that trap was an understatement. Still, the blonde had a hunch that this wasn’t the only obstacle the dimly lit staircase and hallway had in store for her.

Gathering enough courage to face the potentially hazardous unknown, Jasmine decided to send the wheelchair in first. Well, after getting it over the spiked rack when realizing that it wasn’t attached to anything that could crank it back up to the ceiling for a second onslaught.

It was a good thing Jasmine had opted for sending the handicap device careening quite a number of feet in front of her, too. As it turned out? There where all kinds of traps _everywhere_.

Motion-detecting bombs, trip wire activated bombs (both of which usually had nails attached), strange sorts of what could only be described as barbed wire _mines_ , and more metal spikes and the heavy racks that drove them deep into either the floor or one of the walls. Going into that hallway that awaited those daring enough to walk to the foot of the stairs unprepared was nothing short of strolling into your own tomb. It could have almost been compared to something out of an Indiana Jones movie if one thought that the traps were simply for killing.

Jasmine had noticed rather quickly that most of them were meant to immobilize a person. With every time she had to unwind barbed wire from one of the wheels of the chair, with each rusted nail or bloodied spike that missed their mark as she progressed, the more the girl swore she could feel it.

There was a desire to capture someone as painfully as possible without outright killing them within these macabre devices. Devices that Jasmine was finding herself knowing how to expertly disarm or avoid _without_ the use of the chair. Just what was happening to her in this dream? What was she going to find down here?

It was something that someone didn’t want others witnessing, that much was obvious.

The degree of effort that the maker of the traps went to, creating such meticulous maliciousness, made it so that Jasmine wasn’t even sure if she should continue on her journey through what was probably once just a regular mansion basement. Someone, be it deity or otherwise, wanted her here. Was it right to be doing this, though...?

All of these things swirled within the girl’s mind as she disarmed another barbed wire mine and contemplated turning around. Jasmine still needed the answers she’d been seeking, needed to find a way out of Beacon that wasn’t via body bag, but her gut hadn’t stopped twisting since the armed door at the top of the basement stairs. The hall seemed to go on forever.

She would have more than likely given up at that point, begrudgingly, if the sound of a door opening hadn’t come groaning from her left. Jasmine had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed the door until that point, but the sudden noise certainly made her squeak out in surprise.

The soft sound of classical music drifted out from the crack in the doorway that spilled a brighter glow into the feebly lit hallway. The hallway itself still continued, but the door commanded attention. What choice did Jasmine have except to comply with the silent demand?

There was no telling what lurked on the other side of that doorway. Still, Jasmine placed her hand against the door with a brief moment of hesitation. She was sure that there were no traps that awaited her in the room, for whatever reason, and pushed onward. However, what had awaited her gaze wasn’t anything that the girl could have expected.

It was a room with a single light, small table, and one-person bed, but...

Having to brush the dark ashen blonde locks out of her face as she peered around, Jasmine felt that the small room gave off the air of being more of a prison than some severely lacking basement bedroom. There was another wheelchair that was tucked up against the empty table, though it could have been the same one that the girl had left in the hallway some yards back considering the damage the seat and wheels held. The bed up against the right wall had no sheets or even a pillow, but was stained with what looked like long-since dried blood and other possible bodily fluids one might not want to think about.

What was the oddest thing about the room was what was on all of the walls. Jasmine made her way past the table to the back wall to get a better look at the largest image of what had been scrawled and sketched all around her.

Among pictures of strange devices and other odd assortments was a frighteningly accurate depiction of a human brain.

Yes, she was now staring at a graphite drawing of a massive brain. It had the spinal cord, as well as many different little details that were probably what made up a majority of the human nervous system. Jasmine didn’t know what this illustration alone could symbolize, at least not precisely enough; even upon reading the notes jotted on the wall between it and the other sketches.

None of the words really made sense. It was all some sort of jumbled ramblings, as if someone quite brilliantly insane had been locked up in the room she now stood in. The sheer amount of writing and representations of occasionally headless beings, brains, strange symbols, odd contraptions that looked more like medieval torture devices, scribbled ramblings, and even a couple of sunflowers here and there all suggested that whoever had done this could have been stuck in that room for quite some time.

 _No,_ Jasmine thought as she felt a lump form in her throat with tears struggling to form on her lashes to accompany the utterly distressing feeling wringing her insides mercilessly. She was getting a certain, distinct sensation the longer she stood there. _Someone was locked away in here. Discarded...forgotten..._

It wasn’t a mere room if something like this filled the walls with such insistence and precision. This place was definitely somebody’s prison. A prison much like her little room in Beacon, like her very _life_ , but even those had given her a window. Natural light from the sun, condensation from a cold drizzle, moonbeams for tiny dust particles to dance through the night in a way the human eye could easily see.

None of that could ever dream of reaching into a basement like this.

Jasmine closed her eyes as she placed a single hand and her forehead against the wall before her. She wanted to try and get a better feel for this room and what it meant, but at the same time didn’t.

It was exhausting to use empathic abilities that you still couldn’t completely control, not to mention taking in the emotions that another person felt. Emotions that weren’t your own, yet overwhelmed you as if they were. Gift or curse, Jasmine suspected that she might subconsciously be blocking out a majority of information her intuition could pick up.

With the pain she could feel trying to dig into her very being, though, she doubted anyone other than herself would blame her for such a thing. Then again, the girl was her own worst enemy, so that alone might have been the reason behind the internal conflict kicking up. There was something darker lurking beneath all of the pain that she didn’t want to let in. Something purposeful, yet cruel...

An unexpected clattering thud behind the girl caused her to nearly leap out of her skin in that moment. One of her unfortunate trademark squeaking yelps flew past her lips yet again at the sound, but becoming anxiously alert left no time for annoyance at herself. Jasmine spun on her heel and prepared for a fight and found that no one was there.

The disturbance was a large amount of books that had appeared upon the surface of the once empty table. Some were clearly old, some much newer, and many of them worn at their spines. The noise had occurred due to them materializing out of nowhere and landing in their current position. The blonde wasn’t sure whether she was thankful for not running into anyone, or unnerved from the suddenness of the odd occurrence.

One book in particular lay open where the wheelchair was situated and looked to be the oldest present. Jasmine had to collect herself before she could approach it with all the caution of a flighty doe. She discovered that the book was actually a journal.

It would have been rude to read it despite someone or something obviously wanting her to. She had a few of her own, all filled with her depressed thoughts and desperate venting, so Jasmine knew how private a thing like a journal was. She refused to read any of them.

Jasmine sighed softly as she reached out to close the open journal with the utmost care. The moment her fingers touched the worn red leather, however, a shock went through her body and her mind became an echoing hall of a thousand voices. The voices were loud, unrelenting, toned in anger and indifference as they rang an overlapping, unbalanced song within her ears.

“ _HE LIES! And to his own son, his own flesh and blood. It's outrageous! Gone to a better place? That hypocrite. That sanctimonious fool! I know the truth. I know him better than he knows himself. He's trying to punish me again. He always resented our closeness. Thinks he can use it against me. Does he take me for a fool? Laura is **NOT DEAD!** ”_

The first voice, what sounded like a child, rang out the clearest. Furious, in denial, becoming overpowered by the others quickly. Jasmine screwed her eyes shut, grit her teeth, and grasped her head in both her hands as a migraine slammed into her full force. A force that sent her stumbling.

“ _I saw her there again, standing at the end of the hallway.”_

" _I can have everything I sought, everything I've lost. But I need resources. **Jimenez.** ”_

“ _Aberrant brain wave patterns observed in subject numbers 25 and 33, and now again in 55. The one common factor is a case history of dissociative identity disorder.”_

“ _Maximum frequency stimulation of cortical regions has proven less than effective.”_

“ _The only question that remains is which regions to focus on. Fear, hope, consent, trust, envy... Three of these are pivotal. But which will open the way?”_

“ _Everything I have, everything I am, has been taken from me since the ‘accident’ by those who seek to consume me.”_

“ _That cockroach, that **sycophant** ; living off of me, feeding off of my work. I'll have to figure out how he got the combination to my safe.”_

“ _By the time I realized Jimenez had betrayed me, it was too late. I was so close. He knew it. Knew that I was too focused to notice when he'd brought those men.”_

“ _Deep down I knew she was only an apparition, but I would regain my face, recover what was taken from me.”_

“ _Restore her, my beloved sister, **Laura**.”_

The voices, from boy to man, faded away while leaving a jumbled mess of information behind. Jasmine suddenly knew so little, knew so _much_ , and now the figures and words on the walls suddenly made perfect sense. Her hands slowly fell away, resting back at her sides while her mind processed the bits and pieces forced upon it.

She turned to face the illustrations again, just to be sure and...yes; it all made sense. It all made perfect, maddening sense. All of these sketches were diagrams, and all of what Jasmine could now see were scientific formulas. They were all a prelude to one thing and one thing only.

_**STEM.** _

The artist behind the murals and the creator of the STEM system were one and the same. While the true purpose behind the blinding need to make such a machine evaded her somewhat in a state of increasing unwelcome anxiety from being emotionally overwhelmed, Jasmine was certain that STEM wasn’t made for whatever Jimenez was doing with it. The machine didn’t belong to him, though she recalled some mention of the doctor from a few of the voices’ murmurs in her mind. He was connected somehow, and that pissed her off considerably.

That _bastard_. What exactly was he trying to do? Were her and the other patients nothing more than guinea pigs!? And not just to him, either.

Damn him. Damn _all_ of them. Jasmine wanted to go home, but she also wanted the fuckers keeping her trapped to pay for doing it in the first place. Her rage, a burning ire that belonged to her alone this time, bubbled and churned her stomach as it coursed through her veins like a brushfire in the middle of summer. It terrified her to be feeling such a thing coming from within her after so long, even knowing that this feeling had been in her for most of her life no matter what she did.

Jasmine hugged her arms close to her chest and stumbled backwards until she hit one of the walls. Her legs refused to hold her up properly, the girl sliding down to the floor when her knees weakened. She curled into a fetal position, feeling herself shaking all over, wanting to scream out in her anger, yet she stayed quiet. Two silent tears trickled down her face, confusion and anxiety preventing her from bothering to pull apart and fill in the blanks of the puzzle with the new pieces she had in hand.

Why did she suddenly feel more lost in that moment than she ever had before...?

Too much all at once, it seemed. Jasmine hid her face in her arms as the dream closed in before slowly falling away. She refused to move, even when she felt a solid shake to her shoulder that indicated to the blonde that she was finally rousing.

“Wake up, Miss Summers. It’s time for your medicine,” A voice said. Through the wretchedly familiar stinging of a headache, Jasmine recognized that the voice belonged one of the nurses who was, indeed, in charge of medication handouts. She could also feel the hand on her shoulder attempting to shake her awake again, but something told her not to move. The girl had to pretend that she was still asleep; even at the risk of not getting her medication _again_.

It wasn’t a difficult thing to do after the years of practice that she had. Mastering fake sleeping worked wonders for getting people to leave you the hell alone, though sometimes one heard things they were better off not hearing in the first place...

When some more shaking didn’t appear to rouse the girl, the nurse gave an annoyed sigh and removed her hand to place it on her hip. “ _‘We need stronger sedatives,’_ my left foot. Dr. Jimenez just does whatever he pleases no matter what we tell him. If he mixed any stronger doses of that damn sedative of his, they might as well be horse tranquillizers, but heaven forbid that man _ever_ be wrong.” She muttered under her breath. Jasmine found herself needing bite the inside of her lip to refrain from snorting in agreement. Good to know not all of the nurses were entirely incompetent, but that still wasn’t comforting enough for the blonde to let on that the previously mentioned sedation _had_ worn off.

Perhaps it was because Jasmine was hoping that the nurse, in thinking she was still not anywhere close to coming out of the sedation, would slip up and not lock her room up. Most of the patients that had to be sedated were shut in their rooms for ‘safety’s sake’, but it wasn’t uncommon for the doors to be left unlocked or ajar.

 _You know full well that you’ll never be that lucky. They’ll keep you here until you die, so stop faking and get up to take your medicine. That’s what good little psychiatric patients do, right?_ The self-defeating part of the girl’s brain chided.

The majority of the rest of her mind wanted to agree. Luck never came easily to Jasmine or members of her family, if at all, so the least she could do at this point was get her meds. If she had her medicine in her system, then it would be easier for her to think without withdrawal headaches while she watched and waited for an opportunity to show itself. In the meantime, she could relax herself enough to go about trying to properly unravel the information from her dream.

It was this thinking that made Jasmine begin to open her eyes, but before she could so much as give a flutter of lashes, a commotion sounded from the hallway. Multiple people could be heard shouting and running down the hall not even a full second after it started.

Jasmine’s bedroom door was pushed open, followed by the panicked voice of one of the other nurses. “Come quick, Sofia! It’s happened again!”

“Again? Who is it this time?” The nurse in charge of distributing medicine, Sophia, asked as panic filtered into her own voice. Staff usually weren’t too worried about things around here, but whatever the two were talking about had gotten them both quite concerned. Jasmine could almost taste their emotions on the air as they began to swell. Her sensitivity hadn’t been this strong in the waking world before.

“It’s Rosa. She was complaining about being unusually nauseous since last night and then collapsed; just like Todd. I don’t know if she’s fallen into a coma like he has.” The first nurse explained as quickly as she could. She almost sounded like she could have been bordering an anxiety attack, the poor thing.

There was the soft tapping of the standard issue shoes nearly all of the female nurses wore as Sophia moved further away from the bed. “Where is Dr. Jimenez?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, but we need to go and help move Rosa whether he’s here or not. We all know that we can’t rely on him these days.” Was the disheartened response.

“ _Damn_ that man!” Nurse Sophia snapped, but the blonde lying utterly still on the bed heard her rushing from the room entirely. “Alright; we work like we’re on our own on a night shift. Tell Henry to go and find...” The voices turned muddled while the two vanished down the hall and Jasmine knew that this was her chance.

She popped up in bed and looked around while trying her best to ignore the headache that _still_ refused to leave her be, as well how sluggish Jasmine felt. It must have been the lingering effects from the sedative they’d used.

The staff had her hooked up to another intravenous drip, multiple bags hanging from the pole, and she promptly untaped and eased the tiny tube from her arm as she stood from her bed. Donnie was seated atop her small dresser, but Jasmine focused most of her attention on the cart that had been left in her room due to the hectic situation out in the hall.

It was the medicine cart, thank the gods, and Jasmine’s pills were right on top of it in the tiny plastic cup with her name scribbled on a piece of tape on the side.

The girl hurried over to grab the little container containing her meds and tossed her head back. She miraculously managed to dry swallow her antidepressant and mood stabilizers after a few tries. The Lamictal was as disgusting as ever, forcing Jasmine to try not to gag while she took hold of Donnie with the hand that wasn’t attached to the arm oozing blood from the iv site and moved as quickly as she could to peek out the door.

At the far end of the hall, on the other side of the open double doors, a large amount of staff were all crowded around a nurse. Surprisingly enough, even some security guards had appeared within the open doorway in obvious concern for the unconscious woman.

It seemed like they were discussing what to do while checking the woman’s vitals; far too distracted to be paying attention to the patients also beginning to appear en masse. No one would be able to see her hurrying in the opposite direction in this situation. Talk about the unusual luck.

Jasmine took a step out of her room while still keeping an eye on the clutter of staff, just to be sure that none of them saw her, but ended up freezing in place when someone caught her eye. The sight of a torn robe brought a loud ringing in her ears and muddled memories of what happened when she came out of the last STEM session. They were memories that the girl didn’t realize she had until that point, yet were all triggered by the familiar sight of the hooded man that was covered in scars.

No one else seemed to notice him even though he stood directly over the collapsed nurse. He was looking down upon the woman’s form, but Jasmine couldn’t see any part of his face. In fact, his image almost seemed _blurry._ Blurrier than her usual glassesless sight and he was also transparent; like an apparition.

That fact brought an interesting and unexpected thought to Jasmine’s throbbing mind as she stood there in a sort of daze. She wondered...was that man the spirit of Ruben Victoriano...?

There wasn’t really anything to support such a sudden thought except for tangled tidbits of information and the fact that they had the brain with that very name down in the basement. If he really _was_ the connection to everything like all of the sign seemed to be pointing to, though...

 _Don’t think about it; just go!_ She shouted at herself mentally. It was enough to kick the girl back into moving and she was soon rushing through the halls of Beacon; just as her coyote guide had shown her in the dream. Unlike her dream, however, there were still members of Beacon’s staff that were at the nurses station or in different rooms doing things like examining x-rays. Even as things were swirling together in an adrenalin fueled blur within Jasmine’s mind, she still registered the other human beings around her. She still regarded them all as enemies.

To say that the poor girl was on high alert was an understatement. She was practically jumping out of her skin at every noise or person, but still somehow made it closer to her destination at each brief obstacle. It helped that, whenever she heard someone rushing her way, Jasmine had enough sense clean the previously ignored and drying blood off of her arm before standing at one of the windows and staring out at the garden aimlessly. She was easily overlooked as one of the absentminded patients with the commotion near the front of the hospital still going on.

A few times, however, Jasmine would slip into a darkened room if the door was cracked open enough. Two of the three of them were empty, but the last one had turned out to be an office belonging to a young doctor interning at Beacon. It was then that her desperate mind recalled the key card from her dream.

This was how Jasmine found herself blindly rifling through the coats hanging beside the door, praying to every deity willing to hear her out that there was a key card somewhere in one of them.

There wasn’t.

That left her to search the desk and whatever drawers that were unlocked, ducking down and clinging desperately to her teddy bear every now and again when someone would pass the room. Jasmine paused during one of the times she reflexively ducked at a passing shadow when she realized that she wasn’t exactly thinking straight. Anxiety was a bitch, but thankfully she had been taught breathing exercises by her last therapist for such occurrences of it hindering her everyday life.

It wouldn’t get rid of the anxiety completely, but at least it would allow the blonde to focus a little better. Anything would help at this point.

Jasmine _had_ just jumped the gun and initiated her escape without a solid plan after all, so she had done this to herself. Calming it was in her hands, so she inhaled.

Inhale slowly, exhale just as slowly, inhale once more...

The girl did this for a moment and could already feel her mind clearing and her heart rate going down a bit. Jasmine hadn’t realized that she had worked herself up to the point that she’d been shaking for some time before then, but she supposed that was alright. It meant she was still alive, right?

In the dark of the office, clinging to a stuffed animal like she was still a child, Jasmine reaffirmed her last thought by pinching herself. Her arm lit up in the usual spectrum of overexaggerated pain where the pinch had occurred and solidified the fact that she was, indeed, still alive. It wasn’t a nightmare, and certainly not the afterlife if Anpu wasn’t appearing to guide her safely through the underworld.

It was strange to think that, after all of the times she had wanted so desperately to die, Jasmine was actually relieved that she was still breathing. Terrified out of her wits, yes, but...she was alive.

Being alive meant that whoever landed her in this situation hadn’t won. It meant that she could still get out and go home. It was the reason she was tucked away in some office; the reason that she was going to keep calmer than before this point, find a key card, and get the fuck out of this hellhole. Jasmine fortified her resolution with these thoughts and nodded to herself before standing in a crouched position and going through the desk once more.

There still wasn’t any key card in the office in the end, meaning that she had to think of a better place to locate one. The locker room she’d seen in her dream would be too high of a risk. It was still day time, after all, and that left either searching every other office or the nurses station that had already been passed.

She didn’t like it, but Jasmine opted for the nurses station since it seemed like the better choice. The staff would get suspicious if too many offices were rifled through and the girl was hoping that she would be able to make it away from Beacon a considerable distance before they noticed she was gone.

Who knew, maybe she could even use her pickpocketing skill during all of this? Well, given that her dream was right about there actually being key cards assigned to the staff here...

 _Now is not the time to be discouraging, brain,_ Jasmine thought to herself while she slipped out of the office once she made sure that no one was near. She began her reluctant trek back in the direction of the nurses station and tried to keep her eye on the goal. _I need you to work for me; even if it’s just until I get out of here. Then you can rip me a new one all the way back home, okay? Just until I get out..._

When she reached the nurses station, Jasmine was fairly surprised to see that it was void of either of the two nurses that had been there before. It actually put the girl _more_ on edge when her paranoia began whispering in the back of her mind at the sight of the empty station.

Knowing she had to ignore her internal negativity and flightier tendencies, as well as keep an eye out for any more staff that might walk by, Jasmine approached the station’s desk in a way that hopefully wouldn’t look too suspicious. She again prayed to Anpu and any other deity willing to lend an ear that there was a key card somewhere behind the desk. There honestly wasn’t that good of a chance that there would be, but the girl still ended up telling herself that she wouldn’t know if she didn’t look.

A final assessment of the hall was taken, it being empty of any doctors or nurses, and the blonde kicked into high gear. Jasmine had to get up on her tiptoes just to peer over the barrier of the desk’s top, but when she did...

There was a Beacon key card, placed right on top of a clipboard full of paperwork. Exhaling shakily, just to keep from screaming out in sheer joy, Jasmine stood even further on the tips of her toes, with her chest on the desk keeping her barely balanced, and stretched her arm out. She was so happy that she was muttering under her breath without even realizing it. A mantra of: “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you...!”

Fingers closed over the cold plastic of the key card and Jasmine, not wasting any more time than she already had, gripped it to the point where the edges might actually cut her skin open if she held it too long. She wasn’t even back on the flats of her feet when she bolted in the direction of where she hoped a back door really was.

If she hadn’t been so focused on grabbing the card and running the moment she had it, then perhaps she would have noticed that there was another nurse unconscious on the floor; just beyond her line of sight.

The steps from there all seemingly melded into yet another blur of anxious desperation, time warped between feeling like an eternity, to going far too fast. Jasmine honestly didn’t know how she’d managed to get as far as she did in that state, let alone the sheer luck of getting out of her room _and_ snagging a staff key card. From the nurses station, no less!

It almost seemed surreal when that back entrance came into view after passing the empty staff locker room.

Freedom was on the other side of that large metallic door. No one could stop her now.

Jasmine could feel herself pushing to move faster. It was so close and there was no telling how much time she had before someone realized she was missing. That didn’t stop the girl, though. The key card pressed against the reader, a beep followed by the click of the door unlocking, the sting of her nerves as she held Donnie close while using her body to press in the handle and open it simultaneously, and--

\--A van with familiar men in black suits roughly five feet to her left.

 _What the **FUCK** are they doing here!?_ Jasmine was shouting in her mind. She’d made the mistake of involuntarily pausing at the blurred sight of the three suited men and what looked like Jimenez. They’d originally been talking, but all turned sharply the moment that back door opened.

Jimenez was shocked at the sight of one of the patients who was supposed to still be sedated in her room, but was quick to bark out: “Quickly! Grab her before she can escape!”

 _Oh shit!_ The blonde swore mentally as she prepared for the incoming attack. Her fight or flight instincts were most certainly about to kick in, but Jasmine had to keep herself from actually fighting this time. The goal was to get out of the property and run like this was the underworld and a great serpent was nipping at her heels.

Not that the dicks in suits were going to make it easy for her. They had the advantage of wearing shoes and weren’t currently contending with a medication withdrawal headache. Still, Jasmine believed that she had something that they didn’t. She had something that not even her anxiety was able to override when the girl’s blood began to boil like it was.

Jasmine had a stubborn will backed by years of pure, repressed fury.

So much repressed fury that she wasn’t surprised with herself when she used her old dodgeball skills to duck the closest man’s grasping hands and instantly followed it up by jerking her knee sharply upwards to land a vicious blow to his groin. Jasmine would have been lying to herself if she said that watching the guy drop like a sack of lead bricks wasn’t at least a _little_ satisfying. Not that she had the time to think about such things, what with the other two still coming right for her while Jimenez looked on anxiously.

He was afraid of something horrible happening to him if she got away. Served him right.

Turning and bolting for the line of bushes as soon as the first guy had been dealt with, Jasmine ignored the pain in her feet while all sorts of stones and stiff grass jabbed the tender flesh amidst the cold mud. Jimenez was shouting again for her to be grabbed, but she didn’t dare to look back as she dove behind two trimmed bushes and frantically searched for the loose bar.

It was exactly where it had been in her dream, thank the gods. The girl shoved it with all of her might to force the rusted ends to give way to her adrenalin amplified strength and created a gap. It was just barely wide enough for her to squeeze through sideways.

Teddy bear still in hand, Jasmine was about to push through the gap when a pair of strong hands grabbed her from behind. She cried out as her nerves burned from the painful grasp, specifically in the area of her right hip, and yelled in frustration when she realized that one of the MIB wannabes was the one that was hauling her out of the bushes. He was holding her a good foot above the ground once he had a sturdy grip, even as the blonde kicked and howled in rage. She felt like a cornered animal doing so, but it didn’t matter.

She could still get away! Jasmine could _still_ get away; she just had to keep fighting!

Shouting wordlessly, the girl aimed her backward kicks to the guy’s lower body. Her nails raked across his face near his ear at her shoving, and Jasmine didn’t hesitate to latch on to one of his arms with her teeth the moment he had adjusted his grip on her to keep her from escaping his grasp. However, no matter how hard he tried, the damn near simultaneous attacks against his body forced him to involuntarily jerk back and drop his captive.

Jasmine made a break for the bushes again, only to be grabbed by the other man. This time she was being held in such a way that her arms were trapped at her sides. That only left her with her legs free and she began to kick and scream once more. This other guy wasn’t dumb, and apparently didn’t ever miss leg day. His legs didn’t even budge as her heels dug and slammed against his knees and shins.

“Throw her into the van! Quickly now!” Jimenez finally stepped forward and opened the back of the van to show that a few other patients were already seated inside. The sight made Jasmine fight even harder, risking damage to herself while she flailed like some wolf pup just snapped in a small bear trap.

The guy holding her suddenly tightened his arms around her to a painful degree. It crushed the air from her lungs as her body screeched with agony, and to her horror she could feel her death grip on Donnie’s arm involuntarily release. The shock of being forced to drop her teddy bear was more than enough to snap Jasmine out of her frenzied state.

Anxiety and panic swarmed in, getting worse as she was carried further and further away from her physical lifeline in this place while seeing that Donnie was resting in some mud. Jasmine wanted to cry out, demand they let her go so she could grab the beloved toy, but she couldn’t. Not with the vice she was still being held in.

All she could manage was a hoarse, broken wail before she was quite literally thrown into the back of the van and locked in. Jasmine scrambled to her feet despite gasping for breath and charged the back, windowless doors of the van with as much force as she could manage. Her body made a sickening thud when it collided against the unyielding metal, but she didn’t care. The other patients looked on in silence as she screamed as if she’d become deranged enough to actually _belong_ in Beacon.

“ _DONNIE!!!_ ”


	4. As Pieces Fall Into Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the place where she first was hooked up to STEM, Jasmine has time to mull over what she can remember from her dream. While the puzzle is far from complete, things are coming into focus around the mystery of what she's seen and experienced.  
> Will she hear the answers from the hooded man's lips when she'd put back under the machine's influence?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand here's chapter four!  
> Done much more quickly because of how I had to split the original chapter three, but no biggie. I've already started on chapter five, but have other projects to do as well, so I don't know how long it will take me to finish and post it. Hopefully not as long as with the third part.  
> Also, this chapter has a guest appearance!

Surprisingly, Jasmine hadn’t been sedated at any point in the drive despite her having screamed frantically for her beloved stuffed animal for a good handful of minutes. None of the suited men were in the back, but the one driving shouted over his shoulder at one point for her to shut up before he went back there and made her. When Jimenez muttered something to the driver a moment later, there was silence. Even after the girl spat out a vehement ‘ _fuck you!_ ’ while kicking at the metal that separated the cab from the back of the van.

Unsurprisingly, Jasmine didn’t cry. Or, at least, not loud enough for anyone to notice. She always saw crying as a weakness growing up thanks to her grandmother, but never could stop the tears when her emotions swelled during a confrontation. They would always silently slide down an emotionless mask; just as they did when she collapsed against the doors and wondered if she would ever get to hold her teddy bear again. Donnie had been with her for so many years and it didn’t matter if he was a stuffed toy; he was unbelievably important to her. She hadn’t slept without him for upwards of seven or eight years, though she’d owned the bear longer than that. She was about twelve when she first spotted the toy on a display in the mall, in fact.

Jasmine wouldn’t let these scumbags see her tears. She’d long since wiped them away with her muddy sleeves by the time they’d arrive at the place she had first been hooked up to STEM. There wasn’t any fight from her this time, as she knew that there was no point in it right now. The small group of patients were surrounded by a dozen of the suit-clad men and women. With no exit options and her physical strength seeming drained without Donnie in her arms, Jasmine complied silently with the directions given to her.

While she expected to be taken to the STEM room, Jasmine found herself being urged to break away from the other Beacon patients. Jimenez had told them not to physically touch her lest they trigger the girl into another manic state. He was avoiding getting near her as well, which was a good thing. Jasmine didn’t doubt that she would have tried to punch him the moment he was close enough. She was _not_ happy and he knew it.

She wondered if the fear that seemed to be radiating off of Jimenez constantly now was due to her, or if something else was the cause. Jasmine may have been unbelievably pissed off, but she was still curious as well. She had a sneaking suspicion while being led away from the study group that it wasn’t her the man was afraid of. She was probably a part of it, but not the immediate source. He wasn’t hiding things just from his patients, it seemed.

Sighing, Jasmine let those thoughts fade from her mind while she was escorted by four burly men. Two were in front of her, and two were in the back. One of them was whistling the death march, which wasn’t exactly helping in terms of how nervous the girl felt just from how much trouble she knew she was in for trying to make a break for it.

One would think that, if they showed they were sane enough to do something of that degree without killing a single person, then they could go home. Then again, life was a bitch; as with all things.

She had been _so **close.**_

“Alright brat. In.” One of the two men in front of her ordered. His voice drew her from the thoughts she’d unintentionally been drifting off to and Jasmine saw that she was now standing in front of a door.

The room the door opened into was fairly small with a carpeted floor and single potted plant in one corner. There was a large mirror on the right wall, like the ones seen at police stations in crime movies and shows, and a table with a pair of chairs placed parallel on two sides of it. It almost looked like an interrogation room, but everything except the table seemed too... _cushy._

“Don’t make him say it twice.” The guy that had been whistling the death march so cheerily spoke up. Jasmine could only roll her eyes, but remained silent as she walked forward. The door was closed behind her, followed closely by the distinct click of a locking mechanism.

Locked up in a room again. Would this kind of bullshit ever end?

Jasmine honestly didn’t know. Her escape attempt had failed horribly and now they had taken her somewhere other than the STEM room.

STEM...

Thinking of the machine she’d been hooked up to twice now, despite the differing versions, had the girl recalling her dream as best she could. She obviously had some time to kill, so going through and attempting to sort the information she gained from said dream seemed like a good idea. After she sat down and stared unblinkingly at the large mirror she was facing.

While Jasmine always had a strange unnerving feeling around mirrors, this one seemed worse. Probably because she could sense that someone was on the other side of that two-way mirror. They were watching her, perhaps in curiosity, but she honestly felt more like she was being observed the same way a scientist did their lab rats. So she continued to stare, keeping her expression void of any emotion.

Meanwhile, her mind buzzed. Even through the headache still swimming in her skull, Jasmine tried to recall her dream in its entirety. Some of it was fuzzy, but her time in that mansion, in the basement room with all of those voices crashing upon her like a deafening wave—that was what she was trying to focus on.

There was no guarantee that all of the information had stuck. What the girl could recall, however, was mainly emotion and some scientific formulas. The formulas were for STEM, the person who created them linked to Jimenez and the machine itself in many ways. In regard to the emotions, the most prominent thing that stuck out was hate. Absolute loathing and a sort of emotion that Jasmine had only come into contact with more recently.

It was a feeling that radiated from many of the patients of Beacon Mental Hospital. Jasmine could only describe it as madness; only see it as utter insanity.

Something about the emotions she’d experiences were off, though. Like they weren’t experienced in a way that she was used to. In a way that humans were _supposed_ to feel. Some emotions were there, but most were almost completely absent. It was almost as if, from the perspective of whosever memories she was picking up on, that they...

...No, ‘they’ was a he. He had been born male and identified as one as well, but he wasn’t like other people. He was unbelievably intelligent; a genius. Jasmine also got the feeling that he’d done some horrible things in his life, though he never saw them as such. Not like ‘normal’ people did. It was common for those who used a larger than usually humanly possible portion of their brain to be unstable, wasn’t it? She didn’t have the answer to that one at the moment.

One question in particular, however, was still bothering Jasmine. Just _who_ was she receiving such information from? Whose life had she been unintentionally tapping into through STEM, and maybe even further than that?

Just like before in Beacon, as the girl had been looking at the staff and seen that hooded figure, a name popped into her thoughts as if it was the answer. The name on the brain’s container; Ruben Victoriano. A name that was seeming to be linked to almost _everything_. Could a dead man actually be the answer to it all...?

If it all revolved around one person the same way the STEM machine was set up around that brain, then it started to make sense. The girl, the fire, the mansion, and of course the STEM system.

While one or two things didn’t seem to come from him, most were aspects of Ruben’s life. People and places he knew, experiences unbelievably traumatic or close to what emotions he _could_ experience. A fire that burned him, scarring him for life and taking what might have been the only person he was capable of caring about, and a house he had once grown up in but was made to be a prisoner as he sank into the oblivion that was mental illness. The girl had a sense that he functioned surprisingly well on his own, yet wanted others to suffer as he had.

Jasmine allowed herself to blink slowly, still staring at that damnable two-way mirror where there was space above her own reflection. Her brain was moving the pieces in to places even as she was silently challenging whoever was on the other side of the glass. The blonde barely noticed that her right leg had begun bouncing at some point before then and didn’t care to stop it.

She had felt the fire that had presumably burned Ruben at some point. Jasmine _knew_ where each and every single burn from that experience was located, and if she took that knowledge with the scars she’d seen on the hooded man the two times he’d been facing her...

Most of the newer pieces finally fell into their respectable places and it all clicked nicely if she didn’t count a large number of blanks. The hooded man, the one who warned her about Jimenez and something called Mobius during her first experience with STEM, was now nothing more than a brain in a jar. The brain that powered the machine itself.

He was Ruben Victoriano.

And whatever was left of him in that system most certainly had answers. Answers that could get Jasmine out of this hellhole now that her escape attempt had failed. They would more than likely put her in what she heard was solitary, but was more commonly known as the locked ward. There were no windows there. Only pain.

Wait, how did she know that much about it when she’d never been there herself...?

Jasmine pondered this in prolonged silence, as well as thinking about what she was going to do when they hooked her back up to the machine that was somewhere downstairs. She was going to need some help if she hoped to be able to speak and have the entity of that man hear her.

The door opening cut the girl’s thoughts short. A familiar woman entered; the woman with bright blonde hair pulled back in a low bun that wore a pearl necklace with matching earrings. She greeted the young woman seated at the table rather casually, but as distant as she had been the first time they met. “I heard that you’ve been quite busy today, Jasmine.”

Using her first name. That was new, and rather unwelcomed. It made Jasmine uneasy, actually. _Really_ uneasy. She wished she had Donnie with her, but could only rely on grasping one of her sleeves in an attempt to remain grounded and not fly into a state of obvious paranoia and volatile panic. No signs of weakness could be shown. Not here.

“You again?” Jasmine asked after a moment, the door having shut and locked once more. The woman walked across the room and sat down in the open chair opposite the girl. Despite the new focus, there was still a presence on the other side of the mirror. Whoever was there apparently wasn’t going to be leaving any time soon, and with someone else in the room, silent challenges via unnerving stares wasn’t something on the top of her list. The woman seated across from her was a more immediate potential threat.

“Consider me your case manager. You may call me Myra,” The woman, Myra, replied. She didn’t know what was going on in Jasmine’s head at the moment and she didn’t need to. It was already abundantly clear that the girl didn’t trust anyone around her.

The tone Jasmine’s voice held helped to confirm this. “So is this about what I experienced in your machine? Or is it how I’m in trouble for trying to escape the hospital?” She asked bitterly. The internal walls were up against this woman that she had only just learned the name of.

“I’m not in charge of your punishment for that, I’m afraid,” Myra said as she watched the younger blonde closely. Jasmine was jittery, gripping her left sleeve tightly within her right hand while her right leg bounced more than a paint shaking machine. They weren’t going to get any information out of her this way. “Are you worried about it?”

“I’m more concerned about Donnie.” Jasmine muttered somberly, never taking her eyes off of Myra but also not making any eye contact. The older woman gave her a confused tilt of her head, causing the girl to sigh and explain: “He’s my teddy bear. I ended up dropping him when your shithead coworkers grabbed me.”

“You _were_ trying to escape a mental health facility.” Myra stated matter-of-factly. Jasmine scoffed and gained traces of a scowl upon her face quickly.

“That tends to happen when someone is locked up in a place like that with absolutely no contact from their family.” She had meant to snap the words, but they ended up coming out more meek than harsh. The homesickness was to blame for that this time.

Something strange happened when Jasmine mentioned the lack of contact from her family, though. Myra’s expression, usually passive and similar to a porcelain mask, softened. So she still had a conscious underneath all of that after all, huh...?

“Would you feel more comfortable if you got your teddy bear back?” Myra asked in a surprisingly gentle tone as she leaned forward to fold her arms on the table. She almost sounded motherly in a way and that made Jasmine ache for home even more. The tears wanted to come, but she held them back with some difficulty.

It took a moment for Jasmine to answer Myra this time. She wasn’t sure she should say anything, but when it came to Donnie? “...Definitely.”

If only she could have her Anpu plush with her, too.

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do,” The older woman stated as she stood from her chair and moved to the door. She paused briefly and looked back. “Would you like something to eat while you wait? I heard that you haven’t had anything since before your session yesterday.”

“Not surprising given that they keep needlessly sedating me, but...I am a little hungry. I guess,” Jasmine admitted. She was a bit timid about having to do so, but at least her stomach hadn’t decided to speak up for her instead. That would have been embarrassing even though her hunger wasn’t exactly her fault. The result of a natural function of the human body amplified by the fact she was being sedated too damn much.

“Anything you want to drink?” Myra asked while still standing at the door. Jasmine could only look taken aback.

They were actually giving her a _choice_ of what to drink? As in, she didn’t have to fake drink some nasty green stuff and dump it in the plant in the corner of the room when no one was looking? Well, if the assclown behind the mirror left at some point. Whoever it was was still there, which was painfully obvious to the girl’s latent sensitivity. She couldn’t block out the creeping feeling in her spine from the unseen staring.

Despite this, Jasmine was somehow able to keep her focus on Myra as she tried to think. A drink of her choice...

“Do you have any Dr. Pepper? In a can?” She asked after a moment. While Soda wasn’t the wisest of choices, it was all Jasmine could think of. She practically grew up on the stuff because everyone in her family loved it. Except for her cousin, but he was never quite the same after the brain cancer they cut out of him when he was a kid.

Myra smiled at the uncertainty in the younger blonde’s voice. It seemed like a gesture to sooth Jasmine as she replied in a tone that was surprisingly gentle, “We sure do. I’ll have someone bring it in while I see about your teddy bear.”

“Okay.” Jasmine nodded. As she saw the other woman lifting a hand to knock on the door, something in her twinged and her mouth opened before she could stop it. “Miss Myra? I just--thank you. You’re the only person that’s been this nice to me, other than one of the patients at Beacon.”

“...Just Myra is fine,” Was the somewhat delayed response the girl got. A knock on the door and it opened to show the four men from earlier lurking outside like some private guard. Myra offered another smile as she stepped out. “I’ll be back soon.”

The door was closed behind her and Jasmine turned to look at the mirror again before the lock had even clicked back into place. She had frankly had enough of being watched like an animal in a cage all throughout her short conversation with her ‘case manager’, and even now. Too much was too damn much, so she didn’t bother keeping her expression stoic this time.

Instead, she ended up lowering her head and sharpening her gaze with all of the anger and hate she usually kept bottled up within herself. Jasmine was still executing restraint over herself so she wouldn’t start tearing the room apart, but what little she let trickle through her internal barrier had the desired effect on her expression; a whithering glare. Her own reflection looked like she was about to slaughter someone.

A part of her was frightened by how she almost didn’t recognize her own face as it was reflected back at her, but the other part didn’t care. Let her look like some beast. At least then whoever was watching her so intently would know that they had messed with the wrong person.

She decided that worrying about her next STEM session could wait until later and kept up her seething glare. There was no telling how long Jasmine was sat like that, but she was as still as a statue; even through her headache and the faint ringing in her ears. _Fuck_ whoever was on the other side of that glass. Fuck them with a brick drenched in fresh chili sauce, with salt, and wrapped in rusty barbed wire.

The sound of the lock clicking brought the potentially one-sided staredown to an end, but not before Jasmine flipped the mirror off with both hands. She had some colorful, choice words that she wanted to say as well, yet Jasmine decided against it and turned her attention to the door. It opened and, _surprise surprise_ , Tatiana walked in with a cart holding a food tray and some medical supplies. She wasn’t in her Beacon uniform today.

“Good to see that your previous sedation has worn off earlier than Dr. Jimenez expected,” Tatiana greeted. It was a bit of a relief to see that she was the same as all the other times Jasmine had encountered her. If the girl ignored the strange and entirely emotionless vibes that emanated from the older woman, anyway.

“Yeah, you people really need to talk to him about how needle-happy he is when it comes to me. Like my fear of the damn things wasn’t bad enough before I got here.” Jasmine was, understandably, quite bitter about the mention of her newest asshole of a doctor.

“The sedation was necessary. You were too much of a danger to yourself both of the times we used it on you.” The out-of-uniform nurse stated in a practical manner as she got down to business.

Jasmine scoffed under her breath, only to give a sigh before muttering to herself a second later. “Well, whatever. I guess it can’t be as bad as nurse Todd’s notorious sadism...” She paused for a moment from her reflexive resentment with everything and remembered that nurse Sophia had mentioned something about nurse Todd passing out like Rosa had. Didn’t they say that he’d gone into a coma or something? If she was lucky, the girl wouldn’t have to see that bastard for a while.

Oh, who was she kidding? People like that were akin roaches when it came to being disposed of and Todd was probably already back on shift at Beacon, tormenting the patients like he always did. That thought didn’t settle well, almost as if it was more fear than anxiety or irritation attached to the male nurse, but the young blonde had at least one solace.

Only one man had ever caused her to feel the utmost pinnacle of fear and disgust in her life and Todd was most certainly _not_ him.

After all; _Todd still had a pulse_.

“You won’t have to worry about him any longer, Miss Summers,” Tatiana remarked, having heard Jasmine’s words as she set the steaming tray of food and an unopened can of Dr. Pepper on the table in front of her. She didn’t even wait for a response from the girl who had fallen into quite a state of concentration on her own thoughts. “You lost some blood from removing your intravenous port and not putting pressure on the entrance site for some time. Your history of anemia has also been taken into account with that little fact.”

“Wait, what do you--” Jasmine began to ask about Todd, but stopped herself when Tatiana changed the subject effortlessly, if not oddly...ominously. She probably didn’t mean to come off as creepy, but that fact still gave the blonde a chill down her spine.

“Before you eat, I need to change your bandage. Stand up, please.” Jasmine was about to ask what she meant before she remembered the healing cuts on her right hip. With all that had been going on, relentless headache and everything with STEM, she had completely forgotten about them. It was easy when their pain was mostly gone while there was a borderline migraine annoying you.

Wordlessly, Jasmine stood up and turned her back to the mirror before she pulled the right side of her pants and panties down. It was just far enough to reveal a bandage with faint hints of blood peeking through the gauze. One of the scabs must have broken open when the first guy was dragging her out of the bushes by the hips.

Tatiana hummed some unknown tune to herself as she removed the bandage and cleaned any traces of blood from the girl’s skin. It revealed a crude, upside down ‘SORRY’ etched into the pale flesh. Previous unconscious picking of the scabs had turned the lines made by a scissor blade thick and uneven in some spots. However, probably thanks to the fact she’d been mostly sedated for the past two or three days, the skin around the scabs weren’t an irritated red anymore except for where the O’s scab had cracked.

“There we go,” Tatiana said and stood up after she’d taped on a fresh gauze bandage. Jasmine noted that it was a lot softer than the gauze at Beacon, but didn’t say anything as she gingerly pulled the cloth of her bottoms back up to cover both bandage and skin. Tatiana spoke again when she did so. “Not so fast, young lady. Your clothes are next.”

Jasmine looked up so fast that she could have given herself whiplash, her eyes wide. “What!?”

“Your clothes are covered in mud, therefore you need to change in to a clean set. Shirt first,” Was the reply she got and Jasmine could only shoot a distressed glance over her shoulder to the two-sided mirror before looking down at herself.

Her clothes were caked with mostly dried mud on her sleeves, knees, and pant leg hems. She’d wiped the mud on her feet off in the van and on the carpet just inside the entrance of this building, but the clothes still attested to her previous struggle. Jasmine admittedly didn’t like being that dirty and a new pair of clothes sounded lovely, but...

“Quickly, Miss Summers. We don’t have all day.” Tatiana reached out and began to undo the ties at the back of Jasmine’s shirt. The girl was quick to be sure that she remained with her back facing the mirror, the skin of her cheeks burning out of anger. She felt _humiliated_.

Jasmine wasn’t given any power or time to protest; Tatiana had her stripped of all but her panties and undershirt, and had her redressed in less than a minute. Thankfully the mud hadn’t gotten on the aforementioned undershirt, an off white tank top, so that didn’t need to be changed and made the process all the quicker. The older woman was finished and collecting the dirty bandage and clothing before Jasmine could have a full blown anxiety attack.

Having been humming again, Tatiana began to head to the door with the cart. “Now eat up before the food becomes cold. Myra will be back shortly.”

“Thanks,” Jasmine muttered, mostly out of reflex. She sat back down heavily as Tatiana was let out.

Jasmine tried her best to keep her breathing calm while she peered up at the mirror. The feeling she had before was gone, which indicated that whoever _was_ on the other side previously watching her had left and that she was more than glad for it after what had just happened. It also would allow her to eat in peace without having to go back to glaring at the space just above her reflection.

The meal presented to her was the same as the one she ate just before the last session, with an exception of a small amount of liver and onions that was supposed to help prevent any anemia. While Jasmine did eat some of the salmon, liver, and fruit, she wasn’t in the mood for a dressingless salad. She only ate as much as was needed to sate her hungering stomach and that was it. When it came to the can of soda, however, Jasmine swore she was tasting a little piece of paradise each time she took a sip of the carbonated liquid. The can was almost empty by the time Myra had returned.

She had a familiar, worn teddy bear in hand.

Jasmine was up out of the chair and rushing towards the older woman the instant she recognized it was, in fact, Donnie. Myra hadn’t even gotten to say a single syllable before the girl had grabbed her beloved teddy bear in pulled him close in a tight hug.

“Oh Donnie, I’m so sorry,” Jasmine muttered with a small sniff. She was nuzzling her face against the teddy bear out of pure relief that he was safe in her arms after what might as well have been an eternity. “I’ll never drop you again; I promise...!”

“I’m sorry it took so long. He was covered in mud like you were, so I took the liberty of having him cleaned,” Myra said as she watched Jasmine squeeze the stuffed toy like a lifeline. She had a strange, nearly unreadable look on her face while doing so, but Jasmine didn’t notice. She was far too happy with having Donnie with her once more and finding that he was, in fact, freshly cleaned.

The girl did, however, realize that there was more than just Myra in the room now. Behind the older blonde was a young man holding a clipboard. He was also dressed in a black suit, and Jasmine stepped back with clear unease at the sight of him.

“Let me guess...he’s here to ask me about my experience with the therapy?” She asked while looking much like a doe deciding whether to bolt to assault someone with her sharp hooves. She noticed that he was probably younger than her by a couple of years, and that he was nervous. Jasmine couldn’t help but think, _Good._

“I’ll be the one asking you about your STEM experiences. Thomas is simply here to write down notes,” Myra replied. She could see just how cautious the girl was around anyone she didn’t know; just like a child that would hide behind the leg of one of their parents when introduced to someone who was a stranger to them.

The only difference was that she was shown to be more than willing to hurt someone if it meant her freedom. The agent she had mercilessly kneed in the groin, Andrew, was still in the infirmary with a bag of ice held to his crotch.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Myra asked as she thought all of this. The girl was fragile, yet still a spitfire when it came down to it. Being considerate towards her seemed to improve her interactions with others, but one still had to keep her self-preservation instincts in mind. Everything currently in the room could be used as a weapon if one was determined enough. Probably even Thomas.

Looking between the other woman and clipboard boy, Jasmine chewed the inside of her bottom lip in thought. Would they put her into STEM again if she answered their questions? She _needed_ to go back inside the machine containing the essence of an unstable dead man that she desperately hoped could help her out if she was able to find a way to talk to him unhindered.

There was no guarantee, but it was worth a shot. Jasmine could only sigh softly before answering with a simple: “I don’t mind.”

“Good.” Myra took a seat in one chair before motioning for Jasmine to do the same with the other one. The younger blonde did so without a word and that made the older woman give a surprisingly warm smile. “Shall we start?”

The questions were unusually simple and that made it even easier for Jasmine to lie about her two experiences. She didn’t lie about everything, but deliberately left out the parts about meeting a hooded man at her window, seeing her patron god, and the monster that attacked her through the same window she saw the aforementioned hooded being that was Ruben Victoriano.

Jasmine wanted to keep him secret the most. She knew his name, knew he had invented _and_ built the first prototype of their so-called ‘therapy’ machine, and suspected that they wouldn’t be too happy with her knowing as much as she did now despite it not being everything.

Still, in the hopes of baiting them into putting her back under at least one more time, Jasmine _did_ offer them something willingly. Her gut told her that it would be alright as long as she didn’t mention Ruben at all.

“I’m not sure if this means anything, but,” Jasmine began as she watched Myra’s face for any hint of a change at her next words, “Even though I heard my ducks playing in their pool in the first session, they weren’t there when I opened my bedroom window to look. Not even my goats were out there. It was just an endless field of sunflowers.”

She could see the eyes of Myra, and even Thomas, light up at this information.

 _Bingo,_ The girl thought. She had them on the hook, but noticed that something in Myra’s gaze almost looked sorrowful. Sympathetic, even. Jasmine couldn’t comprehend why, especially because the woman covered it up so well.

“Was there anything in the sunflower field?” Myra asked. She’d gotten Jasmine another can of soda at some point, as well as a glass of cold water, and that seemed to keep the girl complacent enough.

Jasmine almost said no to the question. She wanted to keep Ruben as some sort of dirty little secret as strongly as ever, but she also remembered that something _had_ appeared in the distance during that first session. “There was a building, I think. I couldn’t see what it was clearly enough. It could have been a barn or something like that.”

“I see. Thank you for being so cooperative after all you’ve gone through today. It helps us a great deal.” The older woman smiled again. It was almost hard to believe that the currently docile girl seated before her was described to have acted like some rabid animal when she’d been grabbed. Then again, fight or flight moments tended to do that to a person if they weren’t thinking clearly.

“Am I going to be able to continue with the therapy?” Jasmine asked. She allowed herself to sound hopeful, but wasn’t crossing her fingers any time soon. There was the likely chance that, even if she wasn’t being used for whatever STEM was actually for, Jimenez would leave her to rot in the locked ward at Beacon.

“If that is what you would like.” Myra replied. Her response made Jasmine blink a few times. She hadn’t expected to be allowed to be the one to make the decision, like with what drink she wanted. It was both a little suspicious and somehow nice.

“Yes, because Jimenez said I have to go through it for a while before knowing if it’ll work for me,” The girl explained while trying not to seem too eager about getting to STEM. “I want to see if I can do the therapy at least one more time without having to be sedated again.” Not a total lie. Not being sedated would be fantastic, yet talking to Ruben came first. If Jasmine was lucky, Anpu could help with that...

“How does today sound?” The question was abrupt; startling to the point that the girl gave Myra a look that practically screamed ‘you have got to be pulling my leg right now’.

Myra was entirely serious, but Jasmine couldn’t keep herself from asking for some sort of confirmation out of habit. “...I can really do it today?”

“Of course. We saved a terminal for you in the hopes that you might feel up for another session.” Myra, indeed, confirmed. She also added something that could have seemed out of place if Jasmine didn’t remember the excuse for her first sedation after being in the machine. “Jimenez believes that he might have found a way to keep your seizure-induced outbursts from becoming violent.”

Okay, now either Myra was lying or Jimenez had lied to her, because Jasmine was pretty sure she wasn’t having seizures to begin with. Then again, didn’t Ruben experience seizures after he was caught up in the fire that marred him as a child? She had been picking up on what she suspected were mostly his emotions and even ailments, so...

“I’m up for it,” Jasmine stated firmly. She still didn’t exactly have a solid plan, but it wouldn’t matter once she got inside the system. The determination burned bright within her pale blue eyes, seeming to convince the two in the room with her.

Thus, the girl soon found herself in that particular building’s STEM room. The other patients were occupying the tubs; all but one. It was the one attached to the terminal she’d been hooked up to the last time she was here. Her way in to Ruben.

It was almost comical the way that Jimenez looked startled upon seeing Jasmine being escorted inside the room, but she ignored him and went right to the empty tub.

“Are you sure that you feel up to this, Jasmine?” Myra asked when the girl wordlessly handed her Donnie, which the older woman knew must have taken a great deal of courage, since she didn’t trust anyone around her. She watched Jasmine climb into the warm water and lie back against the padding. All of this was without instruction or assistance, and the younger blonde hoped that her eagerness wouldn’t give her plan away. Thankfully it didn’t seem to raise any suspicions.

“About as up to it as I’ll ever be,” Jasmine sighed out her response while people buzzed around to hook her up to the machine. Tatiana was the one brushing her messy hair aside to place cold metal against the base of her skull. Jasmine now knew that it was a needle that they were going to insert within her deep enough to make a connection. Deep enough to pull her into the machine, or so they likely hoped.

Myra stood beside the tub and looked down at Jasmine, the teddy bear safely tucked under one arm. She had that same oddly sympathetic look in her eyes, as well as giving off the maternal feeling from before. It almost seemed as if she _didn’t_ was the girl to go under, but didn’t say anything to that degree. “Just remember to relax.”

“Easier said than done.” Was all Jasmine got out before the stabbing pain in the base of her skull had wrenched her eyes shut. Her headache heightened, screamed through her head, and she fell away from the word and dropped into a thrumming silence.

Jasmine didn’t opened her eyes when she felt the familiar softness of her bed. No, what drew her to rouse into the depths of her own mind was a large hand affectionately stroking through her hair. She didn’t have to look to see exactly who it was; the tender warmth behind the touch with a hint of sandalwood and chocolate in the air gave it away.

“Papa, that man that I’ve been seeing...is that Ruben Victoriano? The brain that they have at the center of STEM?” Jasmine asked as she sat up and stared Anpu in the eyes. There was no hesitation, no fear hindering her while she got strait to the point.

“Yes.” The god’s response was a soft sigh. A part of him had hoped that Jasmine wouldn’t have figured out so soon, wouldn’t have to do this, but time wasn’t on their side. Things were in motion and there wasn’t any stopping it, and all he could do was guide her as best he could. “Have you retained any other information from the dream, little pup?”

“Some, but...not all of it, I don’t think. My head hurts just trying to think about it all...” The girl placed a hand to her aching head, as if making a point. Anpu knew that it wasn’t overthinking that was causing her headaches and migraines. Jasmine knew it too, but wasn’t quite up to voicing it just yet, so they left that one alone and the god gave a thoughtful hum instead.

“It was a lot to take in, so I am not surprised. However, you still must know; the entity you are planning to attempt communication was, indeed, once a man. As a living human...there is no putting it lightly, I fear. Would you believe me if I were to inform you that he murdered quite a number of people in his last lifetime?” He could see Jasmine sit up fully with a grimace at the mention of this Ruben Victoriano being a serial killer.

The information didn’t appear to shock her too much as she gave a small nod to answer his question. Perhaps she already understood that a psychopathic nature was involved, or perhaps she had sensed it from her dream. Jasmine was most certainly smarter than she gave herself credit for.

Anpu continued lowly, “It was under the pretense of scientific discovery in Jimenez’s eyes, but not in Ruben’s. Not in a way one would suspect, anyway. When one views other human beings as nothing more than vermin, they care not for how they gain the knowledge they seek. All he desired was progress, no matter who he hurt in the process.”

“I’m...actually not too surprised. I got the sense that he--that Ruben didn’t process emotions like humans are supposed to. A couple of them were too strong, some of them weren’t there at all, and all he seemed to want for most of his life, other than the STEM system’s completion, is for others to know how he felt. For them to _feel_ how he felt,” She recalled. Some of it had escaped her, but she was certain of at least one thing. “He was a psychopath.”

“Correct,” Anpu replied. A smart girl, indeed. If only she could see that herself, then perhaps he wouldn’t be so concerned. Such an insecure spirit could be dangerously vulnerable in the place she wished to allow her voice to enter.

“It’s amazing what information gets left behind in your head after researching for your writing, huh?” Jasmine asked after a moment. She was more musing to herself out loud, but she almost felt silly. The girl couldn’t remember the laundry she’d just put in the washer an hour before, yet her mind was full of seemingly useless tidbits of information.

“It always does when it comes to brilliant minds,” The god spoke gently in knowing her thought process. Jasmine had taken to staring blankly across the room to where her built-in closest was. That old Jack Sparrow poster was still taped onto the left door.

“...Did you know that Ruben was brilliant? A genius. Still is in a way, I suppose. Only now he can’t exactly hurt anybody.” She looked towards the window and her lips were curled down into a frown. He was out there somewhere on the other side of the glass.

Was Ruben waiting just outside...? Could he sense her conscious resting against his own?

Anpu drew her attention back with a grave tone, “Do not be mistaken, my little one. Ruben Victoriano is still a significant hazard to anyone living.”

“I’m more concerned about the actual doctor keeping me trapped; not a brain in a jar, papa.” Jasmine replied and brushed a hand through her hair. It was nice sitting next to her patron god, but she wanted to run towards that damn window, fling it open, and shout Ruben’s name at the top of her lungs.

“That creature is far more dangerous than Marcelo Jimenez could ever be.” Anpu warned, but Jasmine didn’t answer him. She just continued to stare toward the window, the curtain drawn over it. He saw that there was no stopping her now. Her mind had firmly been made. “You still wish to speak with him, even in knowing what he has done?”

“Yes,” Jasmine replied with a nod. She didn’t seem enthusiastic and was resigned to the fact that she had run out of options. Not only that, but she actually felt a bit of _sympathy_ for the murderer she was desperate to talk to. “As troubled a person as he was, Ruben might have the answers I need more than ever now. I won’t know for certain unless I can actually communicate with him somehow. I know it’s dangerous, but...I don’t have much of a choice at this point. I have to try.”

Anpu released a sigh through his nose and lowered his head as he stood from the bed and offered his hand. “I suspected you would feel as such.”

“I’m sorry, papa...” Jasmine whispered an apology as she took his hand and stood from the bed as well. She felt guilty, but also felt that there was no other choice for her to make. If this turned out to be a dead end as well, she didn’t know what she was going to do.

“You have no need to apologize. This is simply who you are, my pup.” The deity comforted her with a tender smile and fingers running through her hair once more. Thankfully, he had made a few plans should it come to this. “As such, I prepared something that may be of use in this situation.”

“You mean something that will let me into whatever is out there?” The girl asked, surprised but also happy. Would that mean Ruben could actually hear her with Anpu’s help? If so, that was absolutely fantastic...!

“I do not feel comfortable with the thought of you stepping foot into the nightmares that await beyond that window. However, the barrier between the machine and your mind does not require being taken down in order to talk with the essence that is Ruben. That is my hope, anyway.” He explained, but they didn’t move from where they stood at the foot of the bed.

Jasmine hummed softly in thought, but they both knew that her mind had long since been made up before she was even hooked back up to the machine. “So what is this thing you have?”

“It is not a ‘what’, so much as a ‘who’,” The ancient stated. Jasmine could only utter a rather dumbfounded ‘huh?’, but that was all she managed.

“Upuaut?” Anpu lift his head high as he called out. The young woman honestly didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t the smooth voice coming from her left. The same one that made her jump and squeak when it startled her.

“I am here.” A form, nearly the same height as Anpu, materialized a few feet away from Jasmine. Whoever it was chuckled as the blonde all but jumped out of her skin before darting her head over to see who Anpu had chosen to help them.

It was another god, one who had the white head of what almost looked like another jackal, or perhaps even some species of wolf. He had the lapis blue hair that was typical of the Egyptian gods, gold beads adorning the ends of the spun locks, and his eyes were a warm, deep honey gold. This god wore a pleasant smile that went with his gaze perfectly. His skin was a faintly lighter shade compared to Anpu’s, but melded effortlessly with the pale fur of his head. This was a kind god and one that was somewhat familiar to Jasmine; at least in name.

“You’re...Wepwawet...?” She couldn’t help but mutter, somewhat shocked. Jasmine had met other gods before in her dreams, such as Ptah, but she knew about this one from some research she’d done when realizing she was Kemetically Pagan. Because of that, she knew his purpose and understood why Anpu had called him to aid them.

“That is one of my many names, yes. You, however, may call me whichever one you feel is right.” The deity continued to smile at her adorably childish wonder, as well as the awe that was clear upon her face.

“...I think Upuaut feels better,” Jasmine replied after a moment. Upuaut, more commonly known as Wepwawet these days, was as his name stated; ‘the opener of the ways’. Those ways could be doors, paths, roads, and hopefully...the barrier just past the window in her mind, as well.

It was as the blonde was pondering this that she suddenly realized something and practically made herself dizzy from immediately dipping into a speedy bow. “I-I’m sorry for my rudeness in a lack of introducing myself, Lord Upuaut, I’m--”

“--No need for such formality, nor introducing yourself, dear Jasmine. We have met before.” Upuaut interrupted, though not in the least irritated or chiding. He just remained calm and warm within the room. It almost felt like a sunbeam had leaked through the curtain with him standing nearby.

“W-we have...?” Jasmine murmured in wonder and the well-known curiosity of the artist that she was. It made Upuaut laugh.

“Oh yes. Many, many cycles before now.” ‘Many cycles’; Jasmine wasn’t too sure what that meant. Well, other than reincarnation, but she didn’t have enough time to ask for confirmation. Anpu knew this as well.

“We are running out of time, Upuaut.” He spoke up to get things moving. His pale counterpart nodded his head.

“Right,” Upuaut moved closer before bending down to properly look Jasmine in the eye. “Now, little one, are you certain this is what you wish to do?” He could see no uncertainty in those deep gray-blue hues, though they were clearly tired. Everything had been wearing her down bit by bit as the weeks at Beacon progressed.

She _felt_ tired, as well, but knew that she couldn’t let that hinder her now. “Yes. I have to try; before Beacon steals what little sanity I have left. I _refuse_ to let those people control whether I live or die.”

“Then I shall open the way for you, but only enough to converse with the consciousness controlling everything on the opposite side of the window.” He replied and stood strait once more before moving to the aforementioned window and pushing the curtain aside.

“Please and thank you,” Jasmine said. Her tone was full of gratitude, but her expression was one of apprehensive excitement. She wanted to see just how a god could open a pathway of the mind. Would it be easy? Would she actually be able to _see_ his magick? See the _heka_ of a god? Despite the circumstances, such a prospect was giving her chills.

Upuaut swept his hand through the air and the window opened itself. Just like the first session, there was a sea of sunflowers that greeted whoever peered upon them with a chilling silence. The pale-headed god said nothing and merely reached his hand out the window. Unlike Jasmine’s scar the last time she opened the window and looked out, no wounds bubbled up on Upuaut’s flawless flesh. He tapped the air at the center of the window and a sudden flash of colors rippled out from his sharpened nail as if he’d just touched the surface of a once-still pond.

First it was a gentle green, the hue shifting to an indigo blue the further it went outward, and then finally it tapered off to a sparkling silver just before vanishing from sight beyond the window. Upuaut gave a slight humming noise that did little to reveal his thoughts. Jasmine was still observing him with great interest as he moved to place the whole of his hand against what must have been the protective barrier around her mind.

There was silence for what seemed like hours, the girl and her patron god remaining mute in order to let Upuaut concentrate. Then, abruptly, he clicked his tongue and uttered, “This is most unusual.”

“What is it?” Anpu questioned, the epitome of seriousness in that moment. He didn’t like those words coming from an entity that was even more laid back than he, himself, was. There were already too many unknown variables, and they most certainly didn’t need another one right now.

“The barrier is weakened far more than what you have told me about its previous state. Stress alone does not do such a thing to this degree,” Upuaut said as he looked over his shoulder to the pair behind him. His hand wasn’t moving in the slightest; a perfect stone at the center of small pulses of the same three colors.

Jasmine glanced between the two before something came to mind and she decided to speak up. “Well, they’ve been feeding me foods that I think are supposed to help brain function increase, from what I remember. Could that be it?” She clearly wasn’t sure, but it was worth mentioning. Just to be on the safe side.

“Unlikely.” The god at her window shot the suggestion down. Jasmine couldn’t help but deflate at that, even though his tone was still unwaveringly calm. There had to be something that caused this, right...?

“Then I don’t know what--” Jasmine began, only to seem to jump in realization and alarm. “--Wait, they also gave me a large glass of some unknown liquid right before my last session. It tasted horrible, almost looked like the milky water they keep in the STEM tubs with a green hue, and it reeked of heavy medicine.”

Both of the gods’ ears moved forward in interest and perhaps even in the same alarm she was feeling.

“Have you drank it?” Anpu asked, looking down at the blonde standing right beside him. Jasmine shook her head.

“A sip or two when they gave it to me, but I fooled the nurse into thinking I drink it all. I spit out what I had in my mouth back into the cup and poured it out my window once she left. It made my tongue and hand go a little numb, but they’ve only ever given it to me once. I hope, anyway,” She explained. There was the grimace on her freckled face again when she found herself praying that they didn’t administer the liquid into her system intravenously.

“Mn. It must be an elixir that makes the human mind weak to the machine’s influence,” Was Anpu’s pensive musing. He turned his focus back to Upuaut just in time to see the other god give an equally thoughtful nod.

“That could explain the level of degradation,” He said. Upuaut didn’t exactly look happy about that particular revelation, just about as much as Anpu was with the entire situation still occurring. There were just some things humans shouldn’t be messing with and this was one of them.

“Can you still open my mind enough to let my voice reach into the system...?” Jasmine asked in a hushed voice. She was afraid that the two gods were going to decide to stop all of this; afraid that the last light of hope was going to be snuffed out before she could reach it in the darkness that had been closing in around her. She could, after all, detect unease within Upuaut’s energy the more he dealt with the barrier.

“It will be considerably more hazardous to you if I do,” Upuaut said. He turned his attention back to the window, the ripples interchanging between small and large as if in the midst of a battle to find balance. “But it is within my capabilities still, yes.”

“Like I told Anpu; I don’t have much of a choice. I might end up dead if I back out now, so please...” The girl pleaded for him to continue. She recalled what Anpu said about who she was trying to contact and how he was still a considerable danger, but it hardly mattered. It was like being between a rock and a hard place, only it was a mental hospital and the essence of a psychopath that had murdered for his own devices.

If this was something karma found funny, then Jasmine wasn’t laughing.

“A moment more and it should be finished.” The pale god respected her wish to continue and fell silent again. He understood Anpu’s concerns better now that he had seen it himself, yet the girl was notably unwavering. Most would cower or lose their minds from being confronted with something like this.

If Upuaut had asked about it, however, Jasmine would have simply informed him that she’d already lost her mind years before.

“There,” Upuaut exhaled after about another minute or so and stepped away to stand beside the window. He motioned for Jasmine to begin whenever she was ready. “That is as much as I can thin the barrier without allowing you to become too vulnerable, little one. Your voice should carry over quite nicely.”

“Thank you so much, Upuaut.” Jasmine voiced her gratitude once more and made to move over to the window. She was in her mind, but her heart felt as if it might bash through her ribcage at any moment; like how a battering ram bashes through a wooden gate.

“We are here for you, my pup, but you still must tread carefully.” Anpu spoke up as he sensed her rising anxiousness. Jasmine paused and smiled up at him, an odds sort of smile that one would expect on an elderly person instead of a girl in her early twenties, before hugging her patron god. It was a way for her to try and keep any ounce of courage she could, and she felt utterly safe when he returned her loving embrace.

“I’ll try, papa,” She promised. Jasmine took a breath before she pulled herself away and took those few steps across the shabby carpet of her room. The window beckoned with hints of the mammoth flowers shifting in a breeze that wasn’t there, the yellow petals glowing with hints of red and orange in the light of a sun that was close to setting.

Anpu didn’t let the blonde get too far from him to the point that he wound up standing behind her. His and Upuaut’s ears twitch in sensitivity in the next moment when Jasmine placed both hands on the window’s metal sill, inhaled, and yelled into the field, “Ruben!?”

She ignored a stinging in her right shoulder. Jasmine suspected it was her old barbed wire scar opening again for whatever reason it had the first time, but she was too focused on watching and listening for any changes outside the window to be bothered with whether her shirt sleeve was being stained with blood or not.

All she needed was a sign. The slightest alteration in the surroundings, a single sound, but...

There was nothing.

“Ruben Victoriano!” Jasmine shouted out across the sunflower field again. There was still no response, not even the slightest change of scenery. The girl bit her lip and leaned further out the window as she inhaled even deeper and tried a third time. “Please! I need your help!!”

Once again; absolutely _nothing_.

Hope dwindled within her heart at this, but Anpu silently urged her to try yet again when he placed a large hand against the shoulder that wasn’t bleeding. Jasmine had no other choice, even as her voice cracked when she leaned out to the point of almost falling out and tried to shout even _louder_. “ _Please!_ You’re the only hope of survival that I have left...!” She could barely keep from trailing off at the end, feeling pathetic and lost. Anpu had a firm hold of the back of her shirt to keep her from tumbling out into the field, able to feel her starting to shake a bit.

“Perhaps we will have better luck next time?” Upuaut suggested to his fellow god quietly from beside the window. Anpu shook his head as he remained standing behind his child with a grip on her clothes. Jasmine was staring helplessly out the window for any sign of the man that was once a living Ruben Victoriano. The fatherly deity could detect her pain and fading hope.

“At the rate things have been progressing, there may not be a next time for us in here. If the barrier falls entirely...” Anpu answered Upuaut while gently running the fingers of his free hand through dark blonde locks before him. It was to remind Jasmine that she wasn’t alone, but even that might only do so much for her. Things were dire, and she knew it with every fiber of her small being.

Upuaut looked to Jasmine’s despairing expression. There were tears trying to form in her eyes, tears she was fighting, and that worn look to her features had deepened. Anpu often had that look, but the pale-headed deity didn’t ever mention it. He simply gave a partial nod and folded his arms across his chest. “Then I suppose we must keep trying.”

“Please,” Jasmine was muttering. She settled back into her room and the flats of her feet with what felt like a sob trying to crawl up the back of her throat, Anpu’s hold never leaving her. She hung her head and bit her lip in frustration, grip on the window’s sill turning her trembling hands white at the knuckles. Her head shook and she was shouting toward her bedroom floor now. “I’ll do anything! I just...I just need to know how--”

“--How to escape Beacon?” A sudden cold, nearly chastising voice came from just outside the window to effectively cut her off. Jasmine shot up strait and found herself looking at the hooded figure from before. Oh the relief that washed over her despite his mocking tone and mostly hidden, apathetic face. She didn’t even notice that the ever-present headache she’d had for days on end was suddenly gone with his proximity being so close.

“Or, perhaps, you are referring to Jimenez's clutches,” He continued, though it was a statement rather than any sort of question that could have been posed. He knew what she had called him out for; that much was obvious. The male didn’t mention anything about being able to hear her this session, nor did he acknowledge the massive ancient that stood behind her in the window and would have clearly been in view to him. He didn’t need to.

“You’re Ruben, right? Ruben Victoriano? The one who created the entire STEM system?” Jasmine asked immediately, on a mission at this point. She was leaning out the window again, not as far as before, but her right shoulder protested more as red stained the cloth over the small scar. This was further ignored while the girl watched the man before her closely. He was doing the same, causing gooseflesh to dance up her arms and across the flesh of her back and chest.

“I am,” He, Ruben, verified after a short moment. His head raised and Jasmine could see the set of haunting grey eyes glowing within the shadows of the hood. His expression was not one of curiosity, though it _did_ shift away from the near constant indifference he’d been keeping firmly in place. Now he held a look of vibrant indignation as if she’d slighted him somehow. His tone, on the other hand, remained flat with just a hint of an edge of anger. “There is no reason someone like _you_ should have managed to acquire that information.”

“A dream. I saw it in a dream, but not all of it. Just...bits and pieces.” She could see his gaze narrow faintly and Jasmine began to sense something close to vexation that was slowly creeping up his face. She was quick continue in hopes of avoiding any negativity from a being she knew had been an inventor and killer in life. Two gods on her side or not, Jasmine wasn’t looking for fight.

“I was led to you home, or at least I suspect it was your home; a huge mansion with a family portrait hanging in the front hall? A wheelchair led me to the basement, and your books were on the table in the room down there, but I didn’t read them,” Jasmine explained. While Ruben’s gaze was still sharp, he seemed to relax. Or, more precisely, he became unreadable to her again; just like the first time she encountered him. He was listening to her still, so that must have been a good sign.

“That isn’t the only thing I’ve seen, either. The fire, sunflower fields, and a girl in a red dress with hair as black as night; it felt as if she was a sister. I’ve been seeing and even _feeling_ so many pieces of memories that I know aren’t mine, but the only constant in ninety-nine percent of them seems to be you, Ruben. There are other things I’ve experienced as well, but I’m pretty sure those are from other people...” The girl finished by trailing of. Her expression was at ease now, like a hefty weight had been taken off of her shoulders. Ruben didn’t say anything.

He was silent for another moment at the mention of his sister while his mind began to race. He was trying to calculate how this girl could know and see such things while not completely linked into the system. There was an easy explanation in the end, and it was quite an interesting one. “I see. There are imprinted memories without need of total immersion into STEM, yet your entire personality and individual traits remain intact.”

“I’m still not entirely compatible with your system though, I know.” Jasmine paused briefly to gather herself. She couldn’t exactly believe she was going to ask this of a dead guy that she didn’t know properly, but had to push that thought and the fact he was a killer away before it triggered any unneeded anxiety. “Still, I really need your help; I don’t know how much more of Beacon I can handle. All I want to do is go home and see my friends and family again. I shouldn’t even _be_ in a mental hospital, but that bastard Jimenez just...!” She couldn’t help but seethe, gripping the window sill tight again to remind herself to remain remotely calm.

“It’s not simply Beacon you will have to get away from. I doubt _Mobius_ will be willing to let a person with your particular anomaly go so easily. Not with what they’ve been plotting to do with _my_ creation.” Ruben’s bitterness and hatred was clear, making Jasmine blink and ease up on attempting to hulk out and crush the metal in her grasp. A sharp taste filled her mouth at his words, like a hard whiskey laced with blood; the flavor of his emotions. They were powerful enough that, even through the barrier, she almost got swept away in every vicious thing he felt towards whatever Mobius was.

Her thoughts veered away from the man when another piece of the massive puzzle at hand suddenly clicked into place for the girl. It _wasn’t_ just Jimenez that was behind all of this bullshit after all. And the organization Ruben had warned her about actually might have been that other place. The place her body was currently resting in a tub. Jasmine’s mouth moved with the words when she realized this. “Mobius...they’re the ones that have your brain.”

“They are.” The reply was more than blunt.

“ _Shit,_ ” Jasmine couldn’t help but hiss under her breath. Well, that certainly explained a lot. They were probably some shadow organization with a lot of money and power that allowed them to do whatever they pleased; _including_ transferring young women far away from home to be used as fresh test subjects. Not much better than Ruben, in a way, but he wouldn’t have gone far from his home to look for victims. She’d gotten the impression from the information in her dream that he hardly ever left his home when he was alive.

Not surprising. While the reasoning behind the action was different, Jasmine hardly left her home either, so she could understand. You know, in a none scientifically innovative serial killer sort of way.

Ruben continued to observe the girl closely, just as he’d done from before he revealed himself. While she was a mere test subject, she was being used by the same people that had taken everything from him. However, she didn’t appear to know that much. He would fix that; strengthen her own hate and mistrust of those that wronged him. That wronged the _both_ of them.

“Mobius is made up of the type of people that will hunt you down and take what they want, no matter what you do or say. They’ll even go so far as to kill you to do so,” Ruben explained. He could see that the blonde suspected as much, but she wouldn’t expect what else he had to say with her limited knowledge of things. “Exactly how they killed _me_.”

“Wait, they _killed_ you!?” People who could kill a mentally unstable genius as astute as Ruben so easily? That was bad. That was really, _really_ bad.

The shock of that information made her feel ill and she thought back to the sensation she had a while back of nerves being severed and flesh being pulled away from bone until nothing was left of her. Jasmine wondered if that is what Ruben went through. What had ultimately been his demise.

“You may be able to gain freedom from the clutches of Beacon and Jimenez, but you won’t be able to go against Mobius on your own.” He continued. Jasmine knew that this was the blatant truth, and it scared her. Her patron god watched over her, yes, but in the end...she was only one person.

One frightened little girl against the unknown.

“That organization...what can I do against something like that...?” She asked in a quivering whisper. Jasmine didn’t know if she could do this anymore if such beasts stood in her way. They were capable of killing the man outside of her window, and he was a master of building intricate traps and had knowledge of the precise functions of the human mind.

She was a manically depressed young woman who was barely in her twenties and only had the crafting abilities of her multitude of hobbies to fall back on. Even if her survival instincts were counted, she was vastly outnumbered. A gazelle trapped in a den of starved lions. A gazelle that still wanted to fight and escape the jaws of this seemingly unavoidable fate.

Frustration filled her gray-blue gaze and Ruben was pleased. If she was like this, then she would be willing to take any offer of assistance she could get; even if they were false. He could easily use that to his advantage.

“I have a proposition for you. Take it or leave it; it’s your choice. You aren’t necessary for my plans, but you may still be of use.” Ruben pulled her attention back to him entirely with remarkable simplicity. He had every ounce of her focus the moment he opened his mouth and relished in how he could control this younger being with his voice alone as he continued with what he was going to offer, “Bring Jimenez to me. Prove that you are of at least _some_ worth, and I can ensure you an egress from Beacon.”

“What about Mobius?” Jasmine asked. They’d already killed him, right? It was hard to imagine what a dead man could do, but from what little she mostly unwillingly learned about his personality and intelligence? Ruben was more than smart enough to find a way to get back at someone from the grave.

“They won’t be able to stop me, either.” He gave a dark smirk after answering. It was a look of confidence, of _arrogance_ , and he saw the girl involuntarily shiver from the sight of it. It wasn’t a shiver induced out of fear alone, but it was indicative that he already had some power over her. That was good.

For Ruben, anyway.

Jasmine, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure about this sudden development of an offer to a deal.

First off, there was the fact that the journals indicated that Ruben was at least a _little_ suspicious of any and _every_ person that he’d met. Probably due to the fire and his mental status, but she couldn’t know for sure with all the holes left in the tragic story of his life. His paranoia, as well as the obvious arrogance, should have kept him from so much as bothering to even _suggest_ he would accept help from someone like her, who he more than likely saw as nothing more that a worm on the sidewalk. Then again, he could have done this in confidence that he could just get rid of her once he no longer saw her remotely useful to the plan he mentioned. That wasn’t a fun prospect to think about.

Secondly, it was how he’s worded his proposition. Egress pretty much meant a way out, she knew that much and that alone should have made Jasmine feel absolutely ecstatic, but she also knew better thanks to her ever trusty gut feeling. It wasn’t acting up too bad up until Ruben suggested her getting him Jimenez in exchange for a way out, and she knew why. The male had used _‘can’_ , not _‘would’_. That told her there was no promises in his words. He wasn’t saying that he would actually see to a safe passage of escape, only how he would be capable of creating one.

Unsure of what to do, Jasmine glanced over her shoulder to her beloved patron god. The two deities were deathly silent at the action, but Anpu’s eyes said it all. The girl would have to make this decision on her own. She wasn’t sure if she could, but with all that was at stake for her...

“...Okay,” Jasmine finally agreed after thinking hard about her choice. She nodded firmly, as if to further show that she was willing to complete this deal and tried to put her on her best brave face. “Okay, what do you want me to do to get him here?”

Her response, while delayed by a good moment or two, seemed to satisfy the foreboding entity that was Ruben. He could see her rush to act upon their deal, though knew there were not enough minutes left. He had to prepare first, in the time between sessions. “That will have to wait until our next encounter. You’ve been in here long enough that they will be preparing to attempt to coax you back to consciousness soon.”

While crestfallen, Jasmine understood the lack of a suitable time frame for proper instruction. She had to begrudgingly accept that fact, but did so rather well. “Alright. Next time.”

“I would hope that I don’t have to tell you to keep quiet about this.” His voice wasn’t as flat as before, though the apathetic aspect seemed to be returning to Ruben’s being. Even so, something in his voice was clearly a warning. A warning Jasmine felt she didn’t need in the first place.

She smiled a strange little smile that could have been seen as a either frown or grin and folded her arms atop the window sill. Jasmine felt a little better about the situation, even while being weary of Ruben, and a part of her relaxed and playful side emerged to hide her anxious need to just get on with the plan. “Are you kidding? I’ve been lying to those assholes about what’s gone on in here since day _one_.

Ruben chuckled, actually _chuckled_ , and turned to walk away just like last time. Also like last time, he left a few final words in his place: “Be sure to stay alive long enough to return to me, Jasmine.”

And then he was gone; a mere flicker of a human shape before vanishing from sight somewhere in the flowers.

Jasmine blinked rapidly, taken aback at the fact that the man had just called her by _name_. It was only fair, considering that she knew his, but she knew for a fact that she hadn’t told him who she was. She’d been more concerned with asking for help than trading names.

She looked back to the two gods near her, her eyes wide. “H-he...”

“Knows your name, yes.” Upuaut smiled and pushed away from the wall. Anpu wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulder to lead her away from the window so the other deity could secure the barrier over Jasmine’s mind again. His touch was calming and, of course, fatherly.

“Come. Rest. You must be exhausted from all of that.” He moved to lay down on the bed and Jasmine followed closely.

“A little bit, yeah,” Jasmine said. She indeed looked quite fatigued, and took up the space under his left arm when he was settled into place and motioned her to lie down as well. She snuggled against the side of his chest as his large arm wrapped around her, her head and arm coming to rest against Anpu’s pectoral and across his upper stomach.

Her hand splayed out over the space where the god’s heart lay hidden in this form, with her arm crooked at the elbow in order to do so, and sank into her father figure’s warmth. This was, perhaps, the ultimate comfort for her when it came to resting. Jasmine didn’t get to have this level of relief often, given an inability to properly handle her own emotions half the time normally, let alone in the current shit storm she’d been thrown into, so she was thankful. Nuzzling her face against his chest said it all.

Anpu held his little one close, running his fingers through her hair as he closed his eyes. He fully intended to spend what little time she was hooked to the machine to transfer positive energy and let her feel how she was loved.

Ah, if only things could go that smoothly.

“Aw, so you _can_ be endearing after all, Anpu~” Upuaut cooed from the end of the bed. He’d finished building up the barrier of Jasmine’s mind and was now grinning down at the pair with his hands on his hips. The window was closed with the curtain drawn back over it.

There was a great sigh heaved from the other god’s chest, but he didn’t open his eyes. “You can _go_ now.”

“Can I not come snuggle with you as well?” The pale god asked with a mock pout, which honestly looked adorable on his canine face. “What if I am cold? And lonely?”

“ _Upuaut._ ” Anpu warned, voice rumbling slightly. Jasmine wasn’t the only one exhausted, it seemed, and the rumble in his chest was nice. Still, she couldn’t help but giggle at the light banter between the two ancients.

Upuaut put his hands up in surrender, a playful smile still in place, “Alright, alright. I shall see you when you have need of me once more.”

“Thank you again, Upuaut.” Jasmine, for the final time that day, voiced her immense appreciation for his help as she glanced to his towering form at the foot of her bed. She couldn’t thank him enough, but was trying to anyway.

“Any time, little one.” He winked and was gone in a burst of tiny gold and periwinkle flecks. It almost looked like glitter, or as her family called it; craft herpes type a. Anpu huffed again at the flashy exit, but said nothing while he settled back down for the brief reprieve they would both be allowed.

Jasmine lay there in the serene hush of her mind’s replication of her bedroom, but she was restless. There was one question gnawing at her mind that was laced with second guesses.

“Hey, papa? Did I...did I make the right decision in agreeing to help Ruben...?” She whispered a fearful query. It sounded like a rock slide as it shattered the silence, yet there really was no helping it. Who else was she to ask?

Anpu hesitated before sighing softly and moving to rest the end of his muzzle against the top of her head. “I am afraid that only time shall tell, my pup. Now rest while you can.”

“Okay...” Jasmine fell back in to the placid warmth of the air between them. She wanted to tell her god how she loved him, how she was eternally grateful to have him here with her, but it felt like there was no need; not then. He already knew, and she wanted to let him rest.

Before she would allow herself to rest as well, however, the girl wiggled enough to place a kiss to Anpu’s cheek. He laughed softly, returning the kiss with one of his own against her forehead with a light murmur, “ _Rest_ , child.” This time, she eagerly complied.

Jasmine soon felt her STEM-induced dream state pull away from her when she jolted upward and began to cough violently.

Anpu’s presence became less solid, but he didn’t vanish from her senses completely as heavy eyelids were forced open and Jasmine found herself leaning over the side of a tub. The floor of the STEM room met her while she was surrounded by the sounds of many people in the room, as before, and yet something was... _different_. Jasmine was not in the midst of a frenzy. In fact, she was perfectly calm, accomplished even, despite violently hacking out whatever her body thought had gotten into her lungs.

That damn headache of hers was back and smugly pounding a tune all along the inside of her skull, though.

“How are you feeling, Jasmine?” Someone asked from the opposite side of the tub. The blonde had blinked slowly, it taking a moment before she actually registered the fact she’d been spoken to. She sluggishly sat back up and turned her head to see that it was her ‘case manager’, Myra. She was staring down at Jasmine expectantly, a hand on her shoulder to urge her to lie back against the padding, though the air around her was still maternal. Jasmine briefly wondered if she’d ever actually been a mother, but the thought trickled away when she remembered the question of her well-being.

“I feel...tired,” Jasmine answered languidly. She was grasping for blurry details of her surroundings, completely coming back to reality after a pause. Everything hurt, and she didn’t hesitate to shift in the uncomfortable tub. “And I’m sore. This padding does absolutely nothing for my lower back.”

“Are you experiencing any lingering sensations from your time within?” Myra continued the inquiry, but thinking only made Jasmine’s head hurt more.

“I’m not sure...” She grimaced and moved to sit up again. She was allowed to this time, but all she did was settle there with her hands in the water between where her legs were resting. Her clothes were, once again, completely soaked; panties up the crack and all. _Great._

“Do you remember anything about your experience, Miss Summers?” Ah, Tatiana with a clipboard. Jasmine was surprised that it wasn’t Jimenez, but he seemed preoccupied with the others occupying the remaining tubs, so she was lucky. Her fist was _still_ itching to introduce itself to his face and she wasn’t going to bother holding an urge like that back with the state she was in.

“I dreamt of home,” Jasmine said absentmindedly as she watched Jimenez for a few seconds longer. She looked away and tilt her head side to side to get it to crack. “I was lying on my bed and I could hear my ducks outside of my window, but the sunflowers were there again instead of my animals.”

“Anything else?” Tatiana asked as she jotted something down on the papers. They were most likely going to go into her file, not that Jasmine cared. She just wanted out of there for a while.

“Not really. Except for this stupid headache I keep getting. Is there anywhere dark and dry that I can lay down for a while? The lights are making the pain worse...” She tried to get up out of the tub herself, only to wobble on partially numb legs and have to be caught by Myra.

“Of course. We’ll get a more detailed account once you’ve recovered a little. It’s a good thing that it wasn’t necessary to sedate you this time,” The older woman said thoughtfully. Myra was still holding Donnie with one arm, careful of how unsteady Jasmine was on her feet, but was more than strong enough to keep the heavier blonde upright.

That fact oddly didn’t make Jasmine feel better. She didn’t know how to feel about it, actually, and simply mumbled, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Come on. We’ll get you some fresh clothes, a glass of water, an ibuprofen, and a quiet room. That should help get rid of that headache.” Myra held Donnie out and Jasmine grasped her teddy bear by the arm so he wouldn’t get wet from her clothes. No one liked hugging a soggy stuffed animal.

“Honestly? That sounds freaking fantastic right about now.” Jasmine let her weight lean against the older woman. It wasn’t something she really wanted to do, yet her legs felt like...well, they felt like they had in the dream; the phantom sensations that came from touching Ruben’s memories in her sedated mindscape. All numbness and nothingness in so many places...

Myra, unaware of the lack of sensation that Jasmine was experiencing, helped her stumble from the room to where she could stave off what felt like an impending migraine. The girl went along more than willingly, but glanced over her shoulder on the way out. She wasn’t exactly sure why until she saw a familiar and chilling image.

Ruben, or at least some part of him, was standing beside the tub of one of the other patients. The patient was an elderly male still under the machine’s influence and being monitored by some of the people in the room; including Jimenez. The blurry, hooded form stood stock still as he held a hand over the man’s head for the briefest of moments before dematerializing like smoke.

With the Ruben-esque entity’s disappearing act, however, the once unconscious patient bolted up in the tub while shrieking so loud that his voice cracked. His eyes bulged in their sockets, skin void of any normal color, mouth agape in an unnatural manner, and his body twisting about frantically.

Jasmine was rushed from the STEM room much more quickly once that began happening while Jimenez and the others rushed to the patient, but it was too late.

She saw the man fall back into the terminal tub, splashing as his voice gurgled into nothing, his hands that were clawing at the air halting, and the expression of crippling terror frozen upon his pallid face. Blood was leaking from his mouth, nose, and eyes, and Jasmine could instantly sense what had just happened without help from the monitor of that particular terminal blaring relentlessly.

That patient had died.


	5. The Devil's Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Devil makes you a deal, you should always be wary.  
> He never takes his dues painlessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to finish and post...!
> 
> A lot has been happening in my life over the past few months, and most of them haven't been good. It also doesn't help that I have a lot going on in this chapter; all 22,664 words of it. That's 38 pages in my LibreOffice Writer program, but I have a reason behind this. The next chapter is basically going to be where the first game starts, so things are REALLY going to be kicking up.  
> I also think that a reason I took so long to write this is because I've just been focusing on this one thing. Darkness Calling is meant to be super dark, so I've decided that I'm going to write (and maybe even post here) another story to keep myself from getting burned out on this one. It'll probably be either Overwatch or Pennywise, but I assure you all that I'll still be working on this story. It's self-therapy, after all.
> 
> Oh, and I'm sorry if Ruben might briefly SEEM a teeny bit ooc in this, but it's because I suspect how he acts towards certain people all depends on how they act toward him. Unless he's currently picking apart your mind with a scalpel, if you're kind to him, he'll be tolerant of you. For the most part. That's what I think, anyway, but rest assured; our favorite crispy fried fuckboy gets to do what he does best in this chapter.
> 
> Enough of my tired text rambling, though. Run along and read, my little chikadees~

Waiting for the next session in STEM was agonizing, to say the least.

To make things all the better, Jasmine actually _was_ moved into the locked ward upon returning to Beacon. It was cold, barely lit by a single light bulb that seemed to never stop flickering , and the mattress she had now was somehow _worse_ than the last one in terms of quality. They also gave her a different set of clothing, much to the blonde’s annoyance.

It looked similar to the other clothes she would previously get, with the exception that these had straps at the location of her knees and elbows. Jasmine suspected that it was to restrict a person’s movements much like a straitjacket was designed to do, given how she had to wear a thick belt to complete the mental patient Halloween costume kit. The clothes were as itchy as the last set.

Not only that, but they didn’t have one of this type in her exact size. It was a mistake on their part, seeing as Jasmine was smart enough to know that she could wiggle out of the shirt thanks to years of removing sports bras without getting undressed. Boredom and nightmare-driven insomnia were also to thank, in their own way.

The staff let Jasmine keep Donnie with her once more, but didn’t give her anything other than her medication and food; all through a slot in the door just beneath a single, barred window. That accursed green drink accompanied each meal now as well and Jasmine flushed it down the toilet every time she was confronted with the concoction. She was glad that said toilet didn’t decide to back up whenever the liquid was disposed as such.

When she wasn’t sabotaging any plans her doctor and Mobius had, barely eating the food provided and only drinking out of the sink tap instead of the cups of noxious elixir, Jasmine spent her time mostly pacing on still-numb feet or trying to sleep through the unabating nightmares of burning alive. She wondered if this was what prison was like, and the fact she was woken up multiple times both day and night by other patients in the locked ward throwing a one-person riot wasn’t helping her time in the new room. In this new _cell._

There were no visits from Jimenez, Tatiana, or the men in black. Another nurse named Kate was in charge of the locked ward most days. Kate was thankfully one of the nicer nurses and actually tried to talk to Jasmine a few times. It was small talk whenever the blonde was quiet in her cell for too long and she had to be checked on, but Jasmine suspected it was more for the nurse’s sake than her own. Kate always looked worn out whenever she saw her through the little window. Her emotions seemed to be dying off bit by bit and she was beginning to give off the same feeling that Tatiana did.

Jasmine was only able to keep some track of time with her medicine delivery and certain meals, though a part of her wished she couldn’t. It made the hours pass much more slowly, made her even more anxious to be booked for a session, and often worsened her now chronic headaches. Ruben must have been waiting as well, but he would have been using his time to experiment and further whatever he had planned for his machine.

Ah, but that was when he was alive, wasn’t it...?

The dead man was almost constantly on the girl’s mind when she was awake, now. It wasn’t his past or the horrible things he’d done, but more of a silent pondering of what it would be like to sit and speak with him outside of this STEM mayhem. Ruben was smart, so he would have a lot to teach her scientifically. His knowledge of the human mind was vast, as his machine proved, and learning about it all could help her better understand and cope with her mental illnesses. If he was there and the setting was right...

Well, those thoughts probably just came from being left alone in a room with screaming neighbors and the occasional appearance of an exhausted nurse. Jasmine enjoyed time to herself, but she knew that being alone entirely wasn’t good for her. She did stupid, potentially fatal things to herself when she closed herself off from others.

Though why she would want someone even more antisocial than herself, not to mention lacking proper empathy toward other living beings, to keep her company in this place was beyond her. The allure of the strange urge was probably due to Ruben being quite the mystery. Even with all that the dream of his home had shown her, she hardly knew anything about him. No other dreams like the informative one had occurred since then and certain details had begun to fade. That heightened her unease considerably.

Jasmine just hoped that she wouldn’t be left in her cell indefinitely after the first twenty-four hours had painstakingly passed. Time, depression, and her own anxiety-addled brain were mocking her with each meal that came with no sign of any Mobius members she’d met prior. There was no telling how long she would be in there.

The girl was left waiting for what must have been two worrisome days before the door to her room opened and someone other than Beacon staff could be seen standing there. It was Myra.

“There you are,” The older blonde greeted. The porcelain mask of obedient indifference she usually wore was pulled away partially as she smiled at the girl. Jasmine was lying on her bed with her teddy bear against her chest.

“Where _else_ would I be? Jimenez has me locked up in here like a common criminal and doesn’t even have the decency to drop by and tell me anything more about my treatments,” Jasmine responded bitterly. Still, the sight of her Mobius case manager had her sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the old mattress. “Is it time for the therapy?”

“Yes it is. Shall we?” Myra asked as she held the door open wider for Jasmine to have enough room when she came out. There were two other Mobius members behind her, more than likely to make sure their little lab animal didn’t try to make a break for it again.

Sighing and unintentionally showing the effects of lack of sleep with sluggish movements, Jasmine stood and made her way to the door with Donnie in hand. She couldn’t help but grumble to herself, “About damn time...”

“Did we keep you waiting too long?” The older woman looked slightly concerned at Jasmine’s unkempt appearance; the darkened bags under those pale gray-blue eyes, in particular. Jasmine suspected that she looked horrid, but frankly didn’t care at this point. She was too busy trying to concentrate on making sure her sensationless legs didn’t tangle on themselves to give away the recently developed affliction she was silently suffering with.

One problem to being an untrained empath was that the empath in question usually came to show symptoms for illnesses or wounds that belonged to someone they were close to.

Jasmine wasn’t anywhere near to being close to Ruben, but she knew the non-functioning nerves in her legs were due to the fire burning his own nerves away to nothing. Her legs had felt this way in the dream after she’d touched the wheelchair. Thankfully, unlike in the dream, she could still feel everything else.

When Jasmine merely grunted absently in response to Myra’s question while she moved past her and into the hall, mainly due to starting to drift off into her own thoughts, the two macho men grabbed her arms far, _far_ too tightly. Myra saw how Jasmine gave a cringe of pain when her sensitive nerves screeched in alarm all along her arms from the points of contact, and motioned for the men to release the young woman.

“That isn’t necessary,” Myra informed them. They were obviously hesitant in releasing the girl they had heard was the person that mercilessly kneed one of their coworkers in the groin during an escape attempt. It had been somewhere around forty-eight hours and Andrew _still_ had a visible limp when he walked.

“But, ma’am, she--”

Myra held her hand up to silence the one that had begun to verbally protest. Once he had cut himself off and fallen into silence, she looked to Jasmine. “You aren’t going to run, are you?”

“Why would I?” Jasmine pulled her arms free from the loosening grips of the men and rubbed her arms where they were still hot with pain. She paused to give a small smirk over her shoulder after doing so, adding, “We aren’t even outside yet.”

“Good to see that you have a sense of humor.” The older woman smiled and began leading the way out of the locked ward. Myra’s two coworkers didn’t believe that Jasmine was joking; especially when they heard the girl mutter _‘A sense of humor. Right.’_ under her breath.

Who knew that a young woman who looked like nothing more than a child as she clung to her teddy bear could make two fully capable adults feel so nervous?

That was what Jasmine preferred. If she caused them enough unease, then they would refrain from grabbing her unless absolutely necessary. She had no plans to escape today anyway. Not that any of these people would know that.

Today she would be talking to Ruben.

...Hopefully.

The girl kept that in mind as she followed Myra closely with the older woman’s two backup dancers flanking them.

All Jasmine had to do was go into STEM, get her instructions from Ruben, give him Jimenez, and then use whatever way out that was created to get the fuck out of dodge. That was the basic outline for her goals at that moment in time

Jasmine wasn’t paying too much attention to her surroundings thanks to her racing thought process as she was being escorted through the halls and past the other patients. When one patient shuffled by, however, the chill that shot up her spine had her halting immediately in midstep. This feeling...!

It was a cold sort of sensation she’d felt from only one being before, a dead man imprisoned within in his own machine, and she half expected to see that it _was_ Ruben who had passed by her like winter on the wind. When she glanced over her shoulder, however, all Jasmine saw was Leslie shuffling down the hall as he muttered incoherently to himself. He wasn’t in a panic, but his behavior was indicative that he shouldn’t really be wandering around on his own.

Not that a majority of the nurses would do anything about it unless he began to freak out. As long as he was docile, then they would ignore him as they did all the other patients. That was just how Beacon was.

“Keep moving.” One of the men grunted when he saw the girl stop, but he didn’t move to shove her along.

“Is something wrong?” Myra asked upon realizing that Jasmine had stopped a few feet behind her. She wasn’t fully registering the fact that they were expecting her to make a run for it, and didn’t care about it either.

“No...I just saw someone I’d like to think of as a friend if I ever got the chance to know him better,” Jasmine replied after a second or so. She turned forward and began to walk again without another word falling from her lips. Myra thankfully left things at that, and the two women actually ended up walking side by side as the back exit came into view. The men were preparing to go after the smaller blonde the moment that back door opened and she decided to bolt.

Instead of a van this time, a regular and rather inconspicuous black car was awaiting the group. There was another person in a black suit, a woman Jasmine hadn’t seen before, that was waiting in the driver’s seat and reading some sort of magazine.

Jasmine remained at Myra’s side as they left the hospital building. While the two still flanking them with all the fervor of a lingering fart wanted to hustle the girl into the back seat as quickly as possible, and probably would have manhandled her in order to do so, just one look from Myra kept them at bay.

“We’re not taking the pedophile van today?” Jasmine asked and glanced around. It was only the car that was there and no other patients were being loaded in. That was rather ominous, considering the sudden diversion from the usual transportation routine. She didn’t like it.

“No, not today.” Myra opened the back door of the passenger side. While she saw that Jasmine was slightly hesitant, especially after one of the men had gotten in on the other side, the older woman was pleased when the girl sucked it up and slid into the back of the car. “We’re focusing on just your therapy today.”

“Oh joy of joys,” Jasmine could barely be heard mumbling to herself as she was boxed into the center of the back seat by Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Those around her didn’t know it, but Jasmine wasn’t comfortable with the idea of being the main focus of a STEM session for a rather specific reason.

That reason also happened to be a man that their Mobius organization allegedly killed.

If she was the focal point, then her and Ruben might not get the chance to talk. It would be too risky, so Jasmine would understand if something like that occurred today. There was only one little problem with that, though.

She didn’t know how to get Jimenez to the vengeful ghost that was to be both an accomplice and what was hopefully her way out of Beacon for good. Only Ruben would know how to ensnare Jimenez just as the doctor and Mobius had done to her. To the _both_ of them, albeit in different ways.

Jasmine didn’t like to think about failing to get proper instructions due to something like this. She didn’t know how much time there was before the opportunity was lost in whatever plan Ruben already had laid out.

He was only using her as a means to accelerate those plans; that much was pretty obvious. Still, Jasmine wanted to hold onto the hope that he would actually help her if she did this for him. It was a slim chance, a mere sliver of crimson in the black, but it was better than nothing.

“Thirsty?” Myra’s voice broke through the haze of Jasmine’s bustling mind as the car pulled out of the hospital property via a hidden side gate. When the girl glanced up, she saw that an unopened can of Dr. Pepper was being held out to her from the front seat.

All of the tap water she’d been drinking out of her little sink the past couple of days made that single aluminum can a magical sight.

“Oh, you have no idea...!” Jasmine took the drink being offered, being sure to add in a small, “Thanks.” She popped the can’s tab open, taking a good gulp from it, and sighed from what little happiness the soda provided. It could have been drugged somehow, but holy crap did it still taste good.

“You’ll have to drink some water before your session, but I thought you might like this little treat beforehand,” Myra said calmly. The other three Mobius agents, as Jasmine was deciding that they were, were silent and uncaring compared to her demeanor. They reminded Jasmine of how Myra was when she first met her; nothing but an unfeeling mask that threw the young woman’s sixth sense off kilter.

Unlike Myra, however, there weren’t really any sort of differences to the emotionlessness beneath the masks. It was honestly creeping Jasmine out a bit, sort of like it was her, Myra, and three mannequins in that car. Tatiana gave off more than these three did, and she was practically dead in the emotion department.

Hell, _Ruben_ gave off more emotional signals than these people and he was a psychopath incapable of feeling things the way most humans were designed to. Other than hate and guilt, anyway.

Jasmine had a silly little mental image of Ruben being one of the men seated at her sides and felt the corners of her lips twitching up because, _oh_ , how hilariously shocked the others would be. The forming smile quickly fell away when she remembered that she was pretty much thinking about a serial killer, though. One that was supposedly killed by the organization these people were a part of.

That car would be full of blood and corpses within moments if the hooded man that haunted her nightmares and waking thoughts was actually still alive and in the back seat with her. An uneasy chill danced along Jasmine’s spine at that.

“Is something the matter?” Myra asked when the girl in the back seat didn’t respond about the water or getting a soda as a treat. She didn’t even give a second thank you, her gaze having become unfocused in the few seconds of silence that hung in the air. Jasmine had gone from mildly amused, to deeply concerned.

“Tired.” It was an automatic response Jasmine used whenever she wanted to avoid explaining what was really going on in her mind. While it was true that she was tired--exhausted, actually--the girl knew that Ruben wasn’t something they needed to know about.

 _Not yet,_ Jasmine thought as she sipped her soda. _The time isn’t right. Soon, perhaps, but not right now. I think that I have to wait for something specific to happen first. Not that I know **what** , but..._

Even then, whenever _then_ was, she greedily wanted to keep the secret of a fully self-conscious ghost in the literal machine. No...no, she _needed_ to keep the knowledge of Ruben’s spirit to herself.

Jasmine couldn’t tell if this desire was her own or one of the many traces of other people that her vulnerable empathic gift had soaked up like a sponge at some point. Not knowing for certain wasn’t exactly fun to ponder, mainly because it caused her to think about how a part of her had began to feel like she might not be _herself_ anymore. It was like a little piece of her was stolen away each time they put her under STEM’s influence.

“You must have a lot on your mind.” Myra kept up with a bit of small talk, but she must have still been concerned by the distant expression on the girl’s face. She even turned to look at her from the front seat. “It’s written all over your face.”

“Probably why my insomnia has been so bad lately,” Jasmine replied absently. She turned her head to look out the window beyond the guy to her right. She was greeted with the hazy gray of stormy skies and an imposing mountainside of apartment buildings; nothing like the places she grew up. “My mind hasn’t stopped buzzing for at least a week now...”

“Headaches, or thoughts of home?” The older woman pressed gently.

“ _Yes._ ” The responses from the girl were varied, but seeming to get shorter and a little more than curt. Lack of sleep seemed to make the smaller blonde rather cranky when urged to socialize too much. Myra could tell that Jasmine was an introvert by nature, and the situation she was stuck in wasn’t going to be helping that fact any time soon.

Myra offered a bottle of water when she saw Jasmine finish off her soda. “I can talk to Jimenez about getting you some sleeping pills, if you’d like?”

“It won’t help. If you look at my medical file, it should still say somewhere that sleeping pills don’t really do what they should when I take them. I’ve been surprised that the sedation works as well as it has.” Jasmine cracked the seal on the bottle before sniffing it cautiously. A small sip yielded nothing out of the ordinary in consistency or taste, so she took a larger mouthful and thought on her own words.

A sedation that worked...

It must have been sedation that wasn’t a general anesthetic, but still seemed to make Jasmine unconscious once it got into the system. It probably worked so damn well because Jimenez mixed it to the point that a single shot could knock out a large equine, as nurse Sofia previously mentioned.

 _Jackass,_ The girl scoffed mentally. Jasmine really didn’t want to see Jimenez, but it was a small annoyance to deal with for the chance to escape. Freedom and home; that’s all that she wanted by the end of this. Aside from Anpu’s and Upuaut’s support, those two things were all that was keeping her going.

“Perhaps we can find some alternatives for you. Losing too much sleep is bad for your health, after all.” Myra turned forward to watch the road. She was keeping an eye on the Beacon patient in the center of the back seat via the rearview mirror in her peripheral.

Jasmine let out a bark of laughter at the irony of the Mobius agent’s words. “And being stuck in a mental hospital practically bordering on becoming an asylum out of the 1800s _isn’t?_ ”

“Fair enough.” At least Myra admitted that Beacon was a hospital of horrors. Then again, Jasmine suspected that the place they were taking her to wasn’t any better. After all, this was _Mobius_ she was dealing with.

“ _Exactly how they killed **me.** ”_

Ruben’s words, the sensations of his _memories_ , were quick to reprimand her for allowing Myra to become too familiar with her. She could have been one of the people who pulled the Victoriano man apart inch by inch, layer by layer, but Jasmine didn’t think that the other woman was exactly capable of something like _that._

Gooseflesh danced along Jasmine’s arms when she remembered, stronger than the first time, the feelings of having skin and muscles peeled away. A shiver of unease whispered along her spine when her brain felt as if it was physically being prodded with cold steel instruments. She had to shudder just to try and shake the invasive bodily memories away.

Sadly, it did little to relieve the phantom slicing and poking and the once dull headache she’d been learning to live with every day decided that this was the perfect moment to become a migraine of epic proportions.

A shaky word to ease Myra’s worry about Jasmine’s sudden and _very_ apparent pain caused the car to fall into an uneasy hush.

They arrived at their destination minutes before the migraine had receded enough for Jasmine to be able to move out of a fetal position and open her eyes. Myra was far more understanding about the girl’s situation than her coworkers during this wait, but it seemed that she held enough rank above them that they couldn’t argue beyond a few words of opposition.

When she was able to see without shrieking agony river dancing along the inside of her skull, Jasmine slid out of the car slightly more fatigued than she had been before. Myra had offered a hand, only for the girl to wave it away and let herself be led into the Mobius HQ of Krimson City.

Aside from the lack of a handful of fellow Beacon patients, as well as the observation room last time, the walk into the building was pretty much the same.

Unfortunately, that thought absently flitted through Jasmine’s mind a _little_ too quickly.

The young woman found herself freezing for a second time that day when another familiar sensation, a terrible feeling that made one’s skin crawl, fell upon her like a ton of bricks. It was like she was in that police-esque observation room again, only somehow... _worse_.

Jasmine was too occupied with her own thoughts the last time to notice, but this feeling of being watched went much deeper than mere discomfort for her.

It went past her late teens, into the earlier years of having just barely reached that stage of adolescence, planted firmly within a horror from a period of her earliest childhood that had previously been buried until _that_ day--a day when she was playing out in a backyard so carefree, sensed something off, turned around, and...!

Bile crept up the back of Jasmine’s throat as she unwillingly recalled the reflection of thick glasses fixed upon her young form through thin, dirty window panes. The sight was unwelcome, something that haunted her and brought an ungodly fear with it; a fear that nothing else had ever come _close_ to igniting within her.

Unable to keep herself under any semblance of control for long, Jasmine began to dart her head about to look for the source of the staring. Myra took notice of the rapid change in behavior of the younger woman, but anything she said wasn’t responded to. All Jasmine did was continue to look around at everything and every _one_. She was even spinning around on her feet to do so, her chest heaving as an anxiety attack rooted itself into her very core.

Then she saw him.

The fuzzy image of a Caucasian man with short dark, swept hair was standing in some sort of office at the highest floor that could be seen from the lobby. He was wearing a black business suit like damn near everyone else with one hand in his pocket while the other hung limply at his side.

Their gazes met and an instant fury and loathing shot through Jasmine like a lightning strike. It wasn’t her own anger, as she had no idea who the man she couldn’t see clearly was, but she most certainly wanted to march up there and stab him in the face with something in that moment of time. She wanted him to _suffer_.

 _Suffer for all_ _that_ _he’s done._ _**Suffer like no living being**_ _ **ever**_ _ **has before.**_

The feelings were unbearably intense, a dizzying state between wanting to torture a stranger and complete the anxiety attack by absolutely freaking out, that Jasmine didn’t notice Myra had walked up to her until her hand was on her shoulder.

That seemed to snap the girl out of the seething hatred, but it allowed the anxiety to return with a vengeance in one fell swoop. Myra’s hand was slapped away and Jasmine quickly backed away from her with fear in her eyes. She felt trapped in this open space, everything was far too noisy and overstimulating her struggling mind, and her thoughts decided to focus on one thing: everyone here was an enemy.

Everyone here was an _enemy...!_

“Calm down, Jasmine; it’s just me. It’s Myra.” Myra held her hands up to show that she had no weapons, no intentions to harm Jasmine in any way, but it didn’t seem to be enough.

The girl stumbled as she tried to back up even more and somehow managed to stay on her feet and away from anyone. Jasmine’s panic was clear, causing her voice to quiver with quickened breaths. “Get away from me...!”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Myra offered one empty hand as she moved closer. Jasmine seemed to finally calm slightly, but the appearance of Mobius guards rushing toward her caused her to react like the frightened animal state she defaulted to in such situations. It took all that the older woman had just to grab the girl and pull her close before she could run or be injured.

Jasmine struggled weakly as Myra held and hushed her like a mother does their child while stroking dark, unkempt hair. That gesture was enough to drain the rest of the fight out of the young woman and she collapsed against Myra with sharp gasps for air shaking her smaller body as she clung to her teddy bear. Myra could only exhale in relief before giving the motion for the other, bulkier agents to back off.

“Let’s move her to a quiet room until she calms down.” She said as the nursing staff cautiously moved closer to the two women now the center of attention in the front lobby. Only three or four of them were willing to do so, not wanting to be involved in a situation where they could be dealing with a severely unhinged person.

“Should we sedate her as well?” One of Mobius’ nurses that specifically worked with the STEM project asked in concern. He knew how dangerous mental patients could be, and this one had just flipped her lid out of the blue.

The stern look on Myra’s face was answer enough, though words accompanied the impressive glare. “Absolutely _not._ ”

Myra practically had to carry Jasmine out of the lobby and away from the growing crowd of Mobius officials and agents. It wasn’t as if Jasmine’s legs had given out, but it almost seemed to be that way. She could barely keep her footing, yet Myra’s gentle urging somehow gave the girl incentive to try. It was thanks to that, that the sounds of Mobius agents going about their business was silenced with the mere click of a door shutting.

Peace and quiet reigned in this room, and Jasmine’s weary mind was more than grateful.

“Here we go,” Myra spoke in the same gentle manner that had coaxed the girl to the room they were in now. It was small, dim in lighting, and had a single sofa next to an empty table in the farthest right corner. This was more than enough for what was needed. “Let’s sit you down for a bit.”

Jasmine fell heavily upon the red sofa once she was close enough to do so. Everything was heavy, her overwhelmed mind included, and all the girl could manage to think of doing from that point on was lying down. It was by some miracle that Donnie was still with her, so Jasmine allowed herself to fall onto her side and curl up around her teddy bear. She felt so _pathetic_...

Myra watched the younger blonde with a sympathetic look on her face. Whatever had just occurred, a panic or anxiety attack from Myra could tell, had completely drained Jasmine of what little energy she had to begin with. The poor thing wasn’t in any sort of condition to be doing _anything_ right now. That worried the Mobius agent immensely.

“...I’m sorry...” Jasmine suddenly muttered. It was soft and mostly inaudible behind the head of the teddy bear, but it was enough to bring Myra’s focus away from attempting to talk her superiors into calling off today’s STEM session.

“What was that?” Myra asked as she grabbed a chair from the table and sat in front of the sofa. She could see Jasmine staring at the wall just past her seated form with a distant gaze.

With a quivered exhale, Jasmine repeated herself. “I said I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to have an episode like that...”

“No need to apologize. These things happen sometimes,” Myra responded. She was keeping her voice soft, yet it still sounded far too loud in the ringing silence of the room. Every little noise seemed too loud to Myra as she wrestled with her doubts about the Executive Administrator’s decision to bring Jasmine back in. He wasn't the one seeing what all of this was doing to the girl. “You don’t have to go through with the therapy today if you aren’t feeling up to it, Jasmine. We have other patients that are also in the program.”

“No, I...I’ll do it,” Jasmine managed to get out after a moment. Her heart rate was still high, emotional energy drained to the point that it was stealing her physical energy as well, and the trembling in her body didn’t feel like it was going to be stopping any time soon. “I don’t want to go back to Beacon. I want--”

 _To see Ruben,_ Her thoughts whimpered piteously as her mouth kept moving.

“--To go home...I just want to go home...” She finished as a few tears trailed over the bridge of her nose and down the side of her face. They splattered onto the leather surface of the sofa. Jasmine couldn’t help but think that they looked like drops of blood against the crimson cushion beneath her.

Myra fell silent for some time. Jasmine was refusing to make any eye contact with any part of her, remaining curled around her teddy bear like a small child hiding under the blankets. It was a pitiful thing to see.

“I’m going to go and get you some fresh water and something to get your energy back up. You stay here and rest; I’ll make sure that no one bothers you.” Myra stood from the chair and looked to Jasmine for any sort of response. All that she got was something that almost sounded like a mumbled word of thanks, but it was clear that the girl was mostly gone. She’d most likely retreated into whatever little world made her feel safe, and Myra hoped that that was the case.

Jasmine would need it here.

Myra approached the door and opened it, pausing in the doorway to add: “You can shout for me if you need something before I get back, okay?”

“Okay...” Jasmine’s muffled reply was a little clearer this time. She sounded unbelievably exhausted. Nodding mostly to herself, the older woman exited the room entirely and changed the access code on the door once it was closed.

It really would be best if they called off the testing today. Mentally unstable subjects were one thing, but one that had just suffered an anxiety attack to such a degree?

Myra was already aware of the mental and physical illnesses that Jasmine had, as well as her surprisingly resistant nature towards the STEM system. The litany of illnesses she was hereditarily prone to aside, connecting the girl to the machine when she was in such a state could prove fatal.

Other patients had already been dying after being attached to STEM, people who helped work the machine were beginning to fall into comatose states at the drop of a hat, and Jasmine wasn’t one of them by what seemed like sheer luck alone. The natural resistance the girl had toward STEM could shatter thanks to whatever triggered Jasmine’s attack. She could end up dying just like her fellow patients had begun to.

Myra would have called off the testing session right then and there if she had the authority to. Unfortunately, only one person truly had that power here, and that was--

“So how is our little... _anomaly_ doing today, Myra?”

\-- _Him_. Speak of the devil.

Recognizing the voice of the Executive Administrator, Myra slipped the mask of her Mobius agent persona back on. She really didn’t want to deal with this man right now, but he never took ‘no’ for an answer. It took all she had just to keep from finding a gun and shooting the man now standing a few feet behind her.

Knowing that her superior didn’t like waiting for his subordinates to answer him, Myra turned to smile at the Administrator. “Good to see you, Administrator. How are you doing today?”

“I’m doing fine,” He replied. The Administrator circled around Myra slowly, only to stop and peer into the tiny window at the top of the door. He was looking at Jasmine’s curled form on the sofa and, as per usual, smirking while he did so. “How is the girl? Will she be ready for testing?”

“Yes. After some rest, of course.” Myra’s reply was swift, though it was far from what she wanted to say. Her protests would be of no use anyway; not when the Administrator had such an interest toward certain patients and their involvement in the STEM testing.

“Good. While she does that, you and I need to discuss something of considerable significance.” The Administrator stepped away from the door to look at Myra once more.

“Is it about Dr. Jimenez?” She asked. The sudden lack of smugness, replaced by dire seriousness, was what had given his concerns away. Jimenez had been becoming a problem as of late, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if her suspicions proved correct.

“Yes. It appears that he plans to make his move sooner than we expected. Come; walk with me.” The Administrator turned away from Myra. She didn’t hesitate to follow him after double-checking that the door was going to stay secure in her, hopefully, brief absence.

Tucked within the room and unaware of what was currently occurring on the other side of the door, Jasmine was struggling. This struggle was against a horrid amount in both mental and physical factors. The need for sleep and the desire to fight against the fatigue and demand to be hooked up to that monster of a machine were the main two desires that were currently in a battle to the death within her mind.

STEM was _so_ close, _Ruben_ was so _**damn**_ close; it was just a floor or two away, but to Jasmine? The distance seemed like she was staring across the Grand Canyon with that mysterious hooded figure a mere speck upon the opposite cliff.

She was so _tired_ , so absolutely _drained._

 _I’m sorry, but I..._ Thoughts and eyelids fluttered while sleep crept in, Jasmine far too weak to stave it off for long as she was quickly becoming victim to the Sandman’s lullaby. _I’m too...weak..._

It was too quiet for her in the room now; quiet enough to let poisonous thoughts and memories slither up to hiss along her weary mind. Jasmine briefly wished that there was at least some music to help drown the thoughts out. Music usually helped her during various difficult points in her life, but it seemed that she was out of luck with that here.

When she was unable to keep her eyes open any longer, the distant sound of a piano could be heard. It grew louder the further Jasmine was pulled into slumber and she no longer fought the need for rest.

She felt as if she were swimming towards the ethereal sound of keys being expertly played. The notes floated her along the river of sleep and into a dimly lit room, though not the one in the Mobius building. This one was slightly larger, decorated with a set of three or four steps, paintings immaculately hung along the walls, and a single chair that faced a piano. Seated at the piano, fingers playing the tune that had carried her here, was a young man.

Jasmine could see that he was covered in bandages as she gently floated down to the base of the steps in the room. It was surprisingly easy to tell that this man was Ruben just from looking at his profile. Those piercing eyes, that sharp nose...

However, it was odd seeing him wearing the dress clothes that he currently was. A simple button up shirt tucked neatly into black pants, nice shoes, and of course; the bandages.

Being so used to seeing a Ruben in torn and dirty clothes, barefoot and without bandages, made this sophisticated appearance of his feel quite strange indeed. Not in a bad way, though. He was certainly aesthetically pleasing dressed the way he was now. Jasmine wondered what in his later life had caused him to differ so drastically on the outside. She landed softly on her feet while pondering such things.

Declining mental or physical state, perhaps? He wasn’t exactly a healthy person after the fire happened. No living being would be with that much damage to their mind and body.

Ignoring the majority of the nagging nature of her curiosity, Jasmine slowly ascended the small steps and approached the piano. Ruben gave no indication to having noticed that the girl was there. Not until she softly asked: “Did Laura teach you how to play?”

“No. Mother taught us the piano,” Ruben replied emotionlessly. He never stopped playing, never looked towards the blonde standing to his left when his tone unexpectedly softened. “ _Claire De Lune_ was Laura’s favorite. She was like an angel whenever she sat here and entertained our parents’ guests.”

“Laura seems like the kind of person who was an angel all of the time,” Jasmine said and stepped closer to inspect the smooth black surface of the piano. It was nothing like the piano she used to try to play as a kid.

Despite the lessons, Jasmine never _did_ learn to play it properly...

The traces of emotion that had barely entered his voice beforehand finally filtered onto Ruben’s face, taking away the sharp edges of his features when he remembered his beloved sister. “...She was.”

Jasmine wasn’t sure what the Ruben she was currently interacting with was. He could have been a part of the spectre she was relying on a machine in order to talk to, or merely something her mind had made up from all of the information she had been gradually absorbing; a familiar form to somehow comfort her. Sad thing was that _this_ Ruben wasn’t exactly comforting to be near.

His presence reminded her of things she was trying not to think about during her wait over the past couple of days. Knowing so much, knowing so _little_ , having to rely on someone who killed for his own devices while it felt like she was losing more and more of herself...

She could only release a sigh before cautiously sliding onto the bench to rest beside Ruben. The song seemed to end, yet he began to play it again. His scarred and bandaged fingers looked like they were barely even gracing the keys with the skilled touches he was giving. Jasmine admired how he played so well for a few minutes, saw how it eased his troubles, and was once again reminded of her own.

“Can I tell you something, Ruben...?” Jasmine asked softly, still watching his hands with her usual artistic focus. The pattern of the scar tissue, how each bandage was layered to only cover some of the deft digits while others stood out dark against the white gauze...

“Are you sure that would be wise?” He responded, bringing her focus to his face. There almost seemed to be a smirk there and she was a little taken aback. Was that...was he _teasing_ her? Jasmine couldn’t tell, couldn’t sense any emotions coming from him, and the fact that he wouldn’t look at her was almost maddening for some reason. On the other hand, at least it helped her decide on what he was.

It took her another moment to form her reply simply out of the brief shock of what most certainly must have been teasing on dream Ruben’s end. _Claire De Lune_ remained a sweet constant that neither of them had to raise their voice to be heard over, and Jasmine was able to find her words once more.

“No, it probably wouldn’t be wise to tell a serial killer what I’m itching to tell you...but I feel like I need to say it. Even if you aren’t the real Ruben and just my brain trying to cope with something,” She finally replied. He didn’t appear bothered by the lengthy pause that preluded her response.

“Then you should be quick about it,” This Ruben stated.

“Time is of the essence, right?” No reply from the male, but it allowed her to get things off of her chest as she went back to watching those masterful hands caper across the ivory keys. “I’m...afraid, though I don’t really know why. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel like I have any control anymore, maybe because I know the real you will most likely kill me once I’ve served my purpose, but I really _am_ afraid. The way this fear has a suffocating grip within my chest is almost like...” One of Jasmine's hands lifted to grip the shirt where it lay over her chest as she remembered something she wished that she never had to again.

“Fear is what opens the way,” Ruben filled the absence of words when hers had unintentionally trailed off. Her gaze sought out his bandaged features once more.

“Opens the way...?” Jasmine repeated his words in a questioning manner, but the male beside her offered nothing else. He simply began to play the song from the beginning again, his focus on they keys while hers remained on his face.

Jasmine chose not to ask this particular Ruben anything more. Since he seemed to only be made out of what little she knew of the real Ruben, this one probably didn’t know the answer to that simply because she didn’t. _This_ Ruben was her mind’s making, so it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if that had turned out to have been the case should she have opened her mouth to let more words flow free.

However, the girl did not do so despite the urge. Jasmine was still tired; even in this little dream world she’d subconsciously created. At least she now had some music to concentrate on, rather than letting her thoughts swallow her whole.

Exhaling due to the exhaustion entangled with her senses, Jasmine did something she wouldn’t ever have dreamed to try should she have been sitting beside the real Ruben. Being tired hindered rational thoughts and actions anyway, so it wasn’t as if she was thinking of the consequences of her need for _some_ form of human contact.

Jasmine simply allowed herself to close her eyes and leaned her head against Ruben’s arm. She couldn’t feel the texture of the fabric of his shirt, finally confirming it as a dream and nothing more, but the girl didn’t care.

The music stopped at the silent and somewhat affectionate action, only to start back up just as quickly as it had paused.

The remainder of her dream was spent resting against him just like that, the music lulling her into a refreshing state of relaxation. Her worries and fears floated away on the notes, but such a state of being didn’t follow her when she found herself rousing to the waking world.

Myra was there when Jasmine slowly sat up on the sofa and tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. Unfortunately, the aftereffects of an anxiety attack could affect a person for weeks afterwards. Jasmine just happened to be one of those people.

“Did you sleep well?” Myra asked as she placed a marker in between the pages of the book she happened to be reading. She closed and set the book within her lap, folding her hands atop the hard cover and looking to Jasmine’s face. She looked as bad as she had before passing out on the sofa, but the older woman didn’t mention it.

Jasmine sat up fully and leaned forward as she sat Donnie in her own lap, lifting a hand to ruffle her hair. She groggily thought about the question before mumbling out, “I don’t know...”

“It happens,” Myra spoke in a considerate tone, still watching Jasmine. She seemed thoughtful towards the younger woman, but Jasmine could tell that this wasn’t the case. Myra _was_ thinking of something, albeit something not pertaining to the girl in particular. In fact, Jasmine got the sense that whatever Myra was thinking of was actually bothering her immensely, but she was covering it up.

Time was running out, though. The nap Jasmine tried to fight off did nothing to quell her desperation to see the real Ruben. She just wanted all of this to be over.

“Can we start my therapy now?” Jasmine asked as she slid her legs to dangle them over the front of the sofa. It was high enough that only the tips of her toes were touching the floor. Not that she noticed; STEM was her main concern.

“You still want to go through with it today?” Myra seemed to be in a bit of disbelief with the suddenness of Jasmine’s request.

“Yes.” The girl refused to be deterred in her decision. Her dream helped her to feel a little better about facing Ruben and going through with this, despite her usual guilt at thinking that she was so pathetic for letting an anxiety attack delay things. She was used to hating and blaming herself, making that easy to ignore due to not being that close to Myra.

If it had been her friends or family, however...

No; that didn’t matter right now. Jasmine had to remain vigilant.

“Alright,” Myra began slowly. She could detect whatever internal issue or debate Jasmine was currently contenting with, and that would make her weaker against STEM’s influences. The girl still needed time to recover; time Jasmine wasn’t wanting to take. “But let’s get you some food first. How does oatmeal sound?”

“That sounds alright, I guess,” Jasmine replied after studying Myra’s demeanor for a moment.

Myra was trying to stall the STEM session, but it didn’t seem to be for malicious reasons. She was acting maternal and that could have led her to try and look out for the younger blonde. Too bad she worked for an organization that sponsored men like Jimenez and murdered killers by taking them apart like a human 3d puzzle.

Jasmine agreed to the food, yet refused to eat more that a couple spoonfuls when it was given to her. She thought that she tasted something _off_ about it.

Thankfully, however, the excuse of not being that hungry in the first place got her out of consuming whatever the bizarre aftertaste could have been. Jasmine suspected that it was similar to the green drink they tried to get her to consume at Beacon--the elixir to degrade her mental defenses against STEM.

Hell, she was pretty sure that her refusal to eat or drink anything suspicious was what had kept her dumb ass alive long enough to strike a bargain with the ghost residing within the system in the first place.

The very system Jasmine was, surprisingly, finding herself relieved to see as she was escorted into the STEM room. Like all the times before, Ruben’s brain was the center of the entire machine. It felt strange, but the girl had half a mind to go over and greet the pickled gray matter.

That might give it all away though, so Jasmine restrained the urge.

It helped, albeit momentarily, when seeing Jimenez pulled her focus away from the brain of...whatever Ruben was to her at this point. Were they accomplices now? Co-conspirators? Oh fuck, could they charge her as a potential accessory to a serial killer’s previous crimes simply because she was conspiring with his spirit through the machine he not only created, but was most likely killed over?

No, they would probably just lock Jasmine up in the padded cell suite if they ever realized what was going on. She was getting out of Beacon _before_ something like that could happen.

By the gods, Jasmine was starting to feel a little like her grandmother when the woman had kicked them out of their house on the grounds that Dr. Phil told her to. During a discussion she had with him. _Through the television._

Jasmine had to force herself not to think about the technicalities of the web of tangled fuckery she was trapped within in between Beacon, Mobius, and Ruben. It made her dizzy and, honestly, didn’t make half an ounce of sense to anyone who didn’t have an open mind. It barely made sense to Jasmine, and she had a pretty open mind when it came to life’s unseen aspects.

Her drifting thoughts aside, Jasmine noticed that Jimenez was looking distracted. Hilariously nervous, actually. His restraint on the obviously jumpy nature he was presenting today had the girl feeling a little devious. She couldn’t help but wonder if she could say or do something that would make the man leap out of his skin.

Jimenez most certainly would deserve it after all that he was a part of putting her through.

“Go ahead and get into your tub. I’ll go find a chair for Donnie to sit and wait on,” Myra said, breaking through the younger woman’s thoughts. Jasmine gave a mute nod and begrudgingly handed her teddy bear to Myra after giving the plush toy a hug. A last embrace in hopes of Donnie helping to give her some strength.

Jasmine was quite pleased when she turned away from Myra’s retreating form and found that, in order to get to her designated STEM terminal, she would have to pass behind Jimenez. The itch to unnerve him was impossible to ignore at such an opportunity.

Ah, but how to go about it?

It only took Jasmine a short moment to decide on something she hoped would make the doctor’s skin crawl.

If what her dream had allowed her to glimpse before the last session was fact, then Jimenez had indeed been _quite_ acquainted with Ruben before the latter’s murder. In suspecting that, Jasmine thought the doctor must have known what his younger colleague thought of him.

Trying not to be _too_ hopeful, the girl made her way past him. She didn’t stop or slow in stride in doing so, but the moment she was directly behind him, Jasmine allowed herself to utter a single word.

“ _Sycophant._ ”

Instead of the voice a young woman, however, Jimenez heard something quite different. He heard a voice from his nightmares, a voice that hated him with every fiber of existence, and the doctor had turned around so quickly that he damn near fell over. He was expecting to see the hooded figure of his would-have-been apprentice staring him down, a seething expression of betrayal upon a scarred face, but--

\-- _He_ wasn’t there.

All Jimenez saw was a knowing glance of pale blue hues over his patient’s shoulder as she headed for her usual terminal. How did she...? No, no, the girl _couldn’t_ have known anything as deep as that!

Jasmine had an anomaly that allowed her to remain completely separate to Ruvik’s mind while accessing a few aspects of STEM, as well as exhibiting brief episodes of having adopted the personalities of previous patients as a result. _N_ _othing more._

Right...?

Oh, god, he felt nauseous.

Seeing as Jimenez was now looking quite green in the face, Jasmine felt pretty accomplished. A little payback at a time like this did wonders, it seemed. Or it would have if the girl wasn’t still feeling her self-loathing trying to burble up and berate her for the weakness she showed when her anxiety couldn’t be covered up.

 _And you fell asleep no less than five minutes afterward. You’re even **more** pathetic than you were before!_ Her negativity snapped and was shoved away to the back of Jasmine’s mind to fester. She simply eased herself into the tub and waited to be plugged in.

Tatiana didn’t seem to be there at the time and a different Mobius nurse, actually wearing scrubs instead of one of those stupid black suits, was the one to prepare her. He went through all of the steps leading up to plugging the young woman in, but Jasmine could immediately see that something was wrong with him.

Little to no color to his skin, the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and his gaze and actions were bordering on the brink of becoming torpid. He appeared as if he might have been under the influence of some sort of drug, but somehow Jasmine felt that illegal substances weren’t the cause of such strange behavior.

Thankfully she wasn’t the only one who noticed the nurse’s issues. A more coherent nurse took his place and the male had to be escorted from the room, but there was no mistaking the sound of a body hitting the ground once he was out of sight.

Not that Jasmine could exactly recognize a sound like that from experience--not as well as she found herself feeling like she did, anyway.

The cold stab of the needle at the back of her neck came with little warning. The shrieking pain of the headache that was entangled with every nosedive into STEM followed close behind, and Jasmine was relieved to open her eyes to the familiar scene of her bedroom.

Two gods accompanied this sight, but brought her self-loathing back when Jasmine immediately thought that she didn’t deserve such patient and loving deities in her life. Not when she was such a pathetic human being.

Too bad her hatred for herself was about to be the _least_ of her problems, which was proven by Upuaut’s greeting from his position beside the window.

“Hello, little one. I regret having to give you such dire news upon your arrival when we have little time as it is, but I fear that your earlier anxiety attack has cause a sudden shift in your mind’s barrier that I cannot weaken without causing irreversible damage. While we are greatly opposed to the idea of you leaving this room, Anpu and I have concluded that you must go _through_ the window in order to properly conspire with your newfound accomplice--” The god’s urgent and troubling information he and Anpu had collected stopped abruptly in concern when he noticed how saddened and struggling Jasmine’s expression was. “--What is the matter, Jasmine?”

“It-it’s nothing,” She replied, far too quietly while her voice quivered despite how she begged it not to. Jasmine didn’t want to worry either of the gods, but her earlier attack was making her emotions harder to control. She didn’t even care about what was just said about going out the window.

Jasmine cursed herself for such a weakness, even though the rational part of her mind was trying to tell her that they would understand. Deities always seemed to; especially Anpu.

“Something ails you, little pup. Is it about leaving this room?” Anpu asked worriedly with a tilt of his head from where he was leaning against her desk. Jasmine shook her head, unable to make eye contact with the deity out of undeserved shame. The window wasn’t even a problem at that moment. Not in her current state, anyway.

“No, no. It’s just something from my past, papa. I...” Jasmine began to try and cover her internal issue up and say that she was fine, only to horribly fail in doing so. The renewed memories had drained her all over again, pitting nausea deep within her stomach, and jumbling everything inside of her. Jasmine felt disgusting; tainted like a drop of fresh blood in once pristine waters.

All the girl could think to tell him at that point was something that she was far too used to saying in her once normal life. “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry...!”

Anpu’s gaze softened when he realized what the problem was as his child could no longer hold back her sobs. With the utmost tenderness, he closed the distance between them to reach out and cup that round face within one large palm as he spoke gently, “Come here, my little one.”

Jasmine stepped closer as she had been instructed while muttering sniffled apologies all the way. Her god hushed her, Upuaut watching in silence as Anpu bent down enough to be nearer to the girl’s level. He brushed her bangs aside with both hands before cradling her face once more and placing the end of his muzzle to her forehead.

The kiss was loving, followed by the brush of the god’s fingertips moving to rest against the very same spot while he muttered something Jasmine couldn’t understand. A cool sensation ghosted over her forehead and sank in deep as it began trickling through her skull. It was like a breeze was easing her suffocating thoughts, calming her furious guilt, and whispering lullabies to the demons that had been with her since she was small.

It didn’t completely rid the girl of her current raging negativity, but whatever Anpu had done had helped to quiet the unrest and return some energy to her exhausted mental reserves. It was direly needed, given how Jasmine was going to be dealing with a dangerously unstable individual in a few moments. Not to mention hat this interaction would be from beyond the complete safety of the room within her mind.

“It is not much, but this should be of some help,” Anpu soothed as he embraced her. His large hand brushed through her hair, the deity noting idly to himself that it was getting long enough to be pulled back in more than just short ponytails now.

“Papa,” Jasmine muttered, only to bury her face into the warmth of his shoulder. She let his scent of that particular day soak into her senses--a beautiful mixture of sandalwood, chocolate, and a hint of thyme with an ancient and almost dusty underscent--and felt more of the darkness in her creep away. Anpu was holding her so tenderly that the feeling of being cherished to this degree made the girl smile weakly and want to cry out of happiness for once. “Thank you...”

“As distasteful as the thought of you actually going out there is, as your mind’s barrier is forcing us to do, we should finish preparing before Ruben realizes that you are here.” Upuaut spoke up. He didn’t really want to interrupt, but time was never on their side within this space. The other two knew this as well.

Jasmine begrudgingly pulled herself from Anpu’s embrace in order to look at Upuaut with a small frown while she wiped at her eyes with her sleeves. “From the things I’ve learned so far? Ruben probably already does, and I doubt me going through that window will surprise him, but...do I _really_ have to go out there?” Of course the anxiety of leaving the safety of her own mind would come up _now_.

“I am afraid so, but only a _part_ of you will move through the barrier while the rest remains safely here. He will not be able to hear you properly if you do not venture outside. Not with what little time you are afforded in these sessions.” The pale god explained solemnly.

Unbeknownst to Jasmine, the issue of the barrier was the first thing Upuaut had noticed upon entering her mind shortly before the current session. After all, it had barely even let _them_ into the protected space of that had been subconsciously created to fend off STEM’s influence. Upuaut knew immediately that he wouldn’t be able to thin it as he had done before; not with how the defensive barrier had unstably thickened and pulled in upon itself.

The barrier would shatter completely if Upuaut tried the thinning process. Opening it entirely could subject Jasmine to the horrors of Ruben, and that had only left the two gods with very little time of their own. They spent the entirety of that time testing, discussing, and then begrudgingly agreeing to tell Jasmine about going through the window when her session began once Upuaut realized the extent that he would be hindered. Human minds were notorious for these kinds of things, but it couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

Upuaut _would_ , however, have just enough leeway to allow a part of Jasmine to slip through while the barrier could remain stable enough to remain intact. _He hoped._

“I will need to alter my form if I am to accompany you during this session. Ruben will not be able to see us the way you do and it could hinder an already complicated process of communication.” Anpu stepped back from Jasmine as he spoke and drew her focus away from her building unease, back to himself. The girl merely blinked in confusion at her god’s words.

“Wait...Ruben really won’t be able to see you as you are now?” She asked as her mind went from what part of her would be leaving this current space to what Anpu was talking about not being able to be seen by someone.

Jasmine could ask Upuaut about the barrier issue in greater detail after talking to Ruben, so she had turned her attention entirely to Anpu. After all; gods not being seen by their own will was one thing, but she got the feeling that wasn’t what he meant and it peaked her curiosity on the matter.

“No. Such a thing is impossible for a creature like him,” Upuaut replied in Anpu’s stead. He seemed solemn about it, oddly enough, but this may have been due to the barrier issue. The paler god’s gaze was trained on the window when he had spoken.

“Why?” His expression had made her hesitant to ask, but Jasmine needed to know. It seemed like her curiosity was gradually becoming voracious when it came to Ruben and it was getting hard to keep it under wraps despite the other issues one would consider far more important at that time. Anpu and Upuaut didn’t outwardly appear to mind her further inquiry.

“While you broke away from the religion that was forced upon you as a child and reached out for us when you were ready,” Anpu began. His tone practically mirrored Upuaut’s expression as he continued to explain, “Ruben abolished religion altogether. Not simply one, but all of them. He only believes in himself; in what he can touch and see and contort to his control.”

“That would make sense...” Jasmine looked down as she spoke, as if thinking of something in particular before she shook her head. “Psychopath or not, _dead man_ or not; Ruben’s still only human.”

“You truly see him as another human being, even after knowing what he has done?” Upuaut asked in amazement. Anpu had warned him that the current incarnation that was Jasmine Summers was quite different from the others in some ways. Upuaut didn’t know if such differences were a good thing, given her reactions to the current situation.

Jasmine gave a slow nod to the inquiry and replied softly, “I don’t get the feeling that anyone took proper care of him when everything in his life went to hades in a hand basket. I’m not saying that he should be forgiven for what he did in his life, but I can sympathize with him in a way. Maybe that’s why I’m not feeling afraid when it comes to going out there with him...”

“Sometimes I fear that you attempt to be far too understanding of others, pup,” Anpu sighed, though his face held a gentle smile. Jasmine was too kind for her own good sometimes, but that was just a part of who she was. It was also why he knew that he had to stay close to her today. “Give me a moment to shift and we shall proceed.”

“Alright.” Jasmine nodded again and took a few steps back. She didn’t know how much room Anpu would need for whatever was a part of the form-shifting process, but didn’t want to risk being in his way.

Anpu took in a deep breath and closed his eyes to focus. Jasmine watched her god in silence while Upuaut remained on guard by the window, but she honestly didn’t know what to expect. Would Anpu’s form change in a blast of glittery dust? Would he simply go into a fully human form? Shrink into a fully jackal one?

Her eyes widened when the color began to recede from Anpu’s muzzle and up his fingers. The whitening parts lost any texture of fur or skin and actually began to _unravel_.

It was right before Jasmine’s eyes that the ancient’s very being was unraveling into nothing more than linen bandages. Golden sand poured out from beneath the bandages as they dropped away from one another, Anpu’s body quite literally falling apart inch by inch.

There was a pile of linen strips and sand where the deity once stood in less than thirty seconds.

The center of the pile rustled and rose, Jasmine staring in awe as an ebony jackal shook itself free. She knew it was Anpu even before he opened those beautiful silver eyes and jumped out of the mess of bandages. He had a ribbon of gold wrapped loosely around his slightly fluffier neck; as was often depicted in glyphs and paintings.

“Okay, that was _awesome_.” Jasmine couldn’t help but break out in a grin once the god sat before her in his fully animal form. He looked every part a real jackal aside from his coloring, but that didn’t matter to her. Anpu was amazing no matter what shape he took.

“As pleasant as it is to see you smile again, my pup, we must not delay,” Anpu responded. His mouth didn’t move, but the sound of his voice was just as calming as ever while he motioned his head toward the wall to the girl’s right. “Adorn your amulets of protection. You know which three shall aid you most out there.”

Jasmine didn’t even have to think about what the deity was speaking of when she turned to see her necklace rack. The three that would help her the most? That was an easy one in her mind.

“One sec,” Jasmine muttered as she hurried over to the wall to find the three pendants that meant the most to her in terms of protection.

She couldn’t help but take notice of how the wall was currently taller than the seven feet it was in reality. It was so strange to see how the ceiling of the bedroom was raised to accommodate the size of the two gods’ full forms while the rest remained the same. For the best, perhaps; Jasmine wouldn’t have been able to reach her necklaces otherwise.

Reminding herself that now was _not_ the time to be getting distracted by such things, the girl was quick to locate the specific pendants she needed. As always, her silver ankh was the first to be put on and was followed by the Udjat; her Eye of Horus pendant.

Anpu watched her from his position, pleased that Jasmine was listening to her intuition without her emotions leading her by the nose. Her basic intuitive instincts were some of the best he’d ever seen in humans. Insecurity and self-loathing, however, blinded her to their aid most of the time. He was proud of her...even on her bad days.

He might not get the chance to tell her that while she was still alive, especially if things continued with her trapped like she was.

“Keep in mind that I shall be accompanying you simply to ensure your safely, little pup. You need not look to me for confirmation of your decisions while you converse with Ruben. I trust in your ability to choose what you feel is right,” Anpu said suddenly. He really didn’t want to distract Jasmine, but it couldn’t be helped when he wanted her to know how he felt.

“You really think so...?” Jasmine paused to ask him, forever uncertain in her own abilities. His sweet, unsure little flower.

“I do. Despite what you believe of yourself, you are an intelligent young woman that has always found a way through the darkness that has haunted you. I am proud of you, Jasmine,” He replied with his head held high, the truth of his words shining in those bright silver eyes. Jasmine bit her bottom lip as she felt the swell of love she had for him nearly drown her in a fuzzy warmth.

“Anpu...” She couldn’t keep herself from going over and bending down to hug him at such tender words. “Thank you...that means more to me than you could ever imagine. I love you, papa.”

It was Anpu’s turn to feel the love she had for him; to soak in her adoration and devotion as he lift his front leg to return the embrace as best he could in his current form. “And I you, my little one.”

They embraced for a moment longer while Upuaut stared on, his face alight with the happiness he felt emanating from them. It was soft, yet altogether powerful, and it could push even the blackest abyss away. Such was the bond between a deity and their chosen ones.

“Quickly now; adorn the final amulet and we shall go.” Anpu urged gently and Jasmine eagerly complied. The god watched her go back to the necklaces on the wall, suddenly remembering something that was considerably important if he was to keep her safe. “Oh, and pup?”

“Yes papa?” Jasmine turned towards Anpu as she secured his medallion on last. Their gazes connected and she couldn’t help but feel like shrinking from how his eyes held such authority. Whatever he was about to say was not something she would be able to go against.

“Should something happen out there, please refrain from shoving me out of catastrophe’s way again. You are the one liable to be severely injured; not I,” He explained and saw realization filter into her expression.

Oh, crap, Jasmine had nearly forgotten about what happened when they had been attacked during her second STEM session...!

A lot had been going on since then, but of course Anpu didn’t forget about her pushing him out of the way to take on the assault of the multi-limbed creature that was birthed from twisted memories and mangled emotions. To see her fall and vanish into a different section of her mind that he could not reach had brought on such an anxiety in the god that it was almost frightening.

“Was _that_ what you were so upset about when you first contacted me, Anpu?” Upuaut finally spoke up. Anpu could be seen stiffening in the shoulders and his fur stood on end faintly, but he kept his calm otherwise. He _really_ didn’t need to be teased right now.

“Open the way, please,” Anpu requested while he stood and approached the window. Jasmine moved to stand at his side, looking more than a little ashamed of the previous action of _shoving_ her patron god. She would do it again in a heartbeat if they were ever in another harrowing situation where she thought he could potentially get hurt, though. All three knew it, too.

“That would be a resounding yes, then.” The pale god chuckled as he kept on with his light jest and slid the window open. No breeze or air was coming in as it would have before.

“ _Upuaut,_ ” Anpu warned exasperatedly. He glared up at the other god who was trying not to grin. It was painfully obvious what Upuaut was trying to do, but now really wasn’t the time to try and get a laugh. Not that that stopped him.

“So demanding today,” Upuaut mocked a pout with a wave of his hand. A wink in Jasmine’s direction had the young woman smiling. He returned this smile, trying to cover up the worries he shared with his ebony counterpart, and motioned to the window. “No need to fret, little one. Remember; we are here for you and will pull your essence back in should anything horrid occur. Just be sure to, as you children put it these days, kick some ass.”

“You are a terrible influence,” The black jackal snorted. He felt lighter, which was Upuaut’s usual goals in such trying times. Jasmine appeared to feel this way as well, seeing as her smile had widened.

“I like bad influences,” The girl giggled. She couldn’t see much outside of the window from where she was standing, but it surprised her that there was a complete lack of any sign of the sunflower field out there. It was just... _nothingness._

“We have noticed this fact, yes,” Anpu drew Jasmine’s attention away from the blackness with his amused tone and looked up to her once more as seriousness took the small moment away. “When we go through, I want us to do so simultaneously, my pup. It might also be best that you and I do not converse, although I doubt that Ruben will be able to hear me if we did.”

“Okay,” Jasmine replied softly. She turned her gaze back to the abyss that greeted her from just beyond the threshold of her mind. Her eyebrows furrowed.

The sight of the absolute lack of anything brought back unwanted nerves. It wasn’t a big deal that she couldn’t see Ruben, as her dealings in all of this allowed her to know that he always preferred to observe things while remaining unseen, but her stomach was still knotting up. It felt as if a dozen headless rattlesnake bodies were writhing around within her gut with all of the anxiety threatening to break free of the dam she was trying to keep it behind until the session was over.

It was so great that she couldn’t stop from finally asking the question the sunflowerless sight brought to mind. “Why is it so _dark_ out there?”

“Neutral ground, from the look of it,” Upuaut said with a deep frown. He didn’t want to worry the other two, but something was quite apparent to him and it needed to be addressed. “It would appear that Ruben was already planning for you to leave this room--be it by your own will or not.”

“That does not bode well...” Anpu’s ears pulled back in his unease. The playful air about them was most certainly gone and dead at that point. Neither of the gods liked the implications that all of this might have been put into action by Ruben in some obscure way. Hopefully wasn’t the case...

“It’s just like him, though. Meticulously thinking ahead into the tiniest details of his plans, I mean,” Jasmine said. There were some faded memories that lingered within her mind, memories that were _Ruben’s_ , of hours he spent slaving away over every aspect of traps, diagrams, and...well, gorier things that she was better off not trying to recall in full detail.

“That does not mean that we have to like it,” Upuaut grumbled before heaving out a sigh. “But...I will still adjust the barrier of your mind to the best of my ability; even if all I am able to accomplish is somehow stabilizing it.”

“Thank you, Upuaut.” Jasmine bowed her head toward him, her right hand coming up to rest at her heart. “I promise to make you some offerings if I ever get out of Beacon alive. I know that won’t be much in repayment for all that you’ve done for Anpu and me, but--”

“--Regaining your freedom without losing your life will be more than enough for me.” Came the words Upuaut used to cut the mortal girl off. Jasmine’s head darted up with her eyes widened as she tried to form a protest.

“B-but I...!” The words wouldn’t finish coming out as the god standing at her window lift a finger her chapped lips in a silent command for silence. There was no arguing with the warmth of the digit held to her mouth.

Upuaut smiled at her compliance and pulled his hand away to tap his own, furry, lips. “Hush now and let me concentrate, dear blossom.”

Jasmine nodded slowly, still looking disheartened about Upuaut’s refusal of any sort of tribute for his part in this. Anpu couldn’t help but chuckle from the pout upon her face. He fully expected Jasmine to create small shrine with little handcrafted trinkets and sweets for Upuaut after all of this no matter what the pale deity said about it. Her stubbornness came about in the strangest of ways sometimes.

“Fret not, little pup,” Anpu said soothingly while keeping another chuckle at bay, “Upuaut is as fond of homemade cookies as much as I am. I doubt he would turn down such a delectable offering.”

“That is not being silent, Anpu,” Upuaut cast over his shoulder. He had both hands up to the open window with the blues and greens of Jasmine’s energy rippling about the edges of his palms. The barrier was far more fragile than it had ever been up to that point.

Something in the void between the girl’s mind and the machine she was physically hooked up to was slowly eroding any defenses she had naturally developed. The day’s anxiety attack hadn’t helped the situation in the slightest, and the god suspected that she’d been slipped more of the elixir that was designed to weaken her mind. Perhaps within the last hour or so, even, given what Upuaut could sense.

“Sorry,” Jasmine apologized to the god’s chiding remark on one of her usual reflexes. She was completely unaware of degree of problems her mind’s borders were having, but the sense of guilt she could never get rid of decided to hit her hard at Upuaut’s tone concerning Anpu.

They all knew that Jasmine wasn’t the one at fault for _anything_ in this, but it was a difficult habit to break when one had been raised as she had. If you silently took the yelling directed at you, apologized and said nothing else to keep from bringing about even more yelling or screaming, then you might be spared more harsh words once the adult reprimanding you calmed down. Given luck was on your side, that was.

Her grandmother was the worst to grow up around with the verbal abuse and manipulation. She was one of the main causes for the C-PTSD symptoms Jasmine exhibited when there was a sudden loud noise or people screaming at one another. Anpu had been sure to inform his pale counterpart of all of this beforehand.

Thus why Upuaut simply cast her a smile while trying to even out this portion of the barrier. “No need for apologies.”

“Right. Sorry,” Jasmine apologized again. She gasped and pulled her hands up to her mouth to keep from blurting out another ‘sorry’. “Ah, I mean--shutting up now...!”

“Aha, you truly are a little cutie,” Upuaut chuckled. It made what he was about to do harder though, seeing as any part leaving the safety of her mind could endanger the now-blushing Jasmine. With a vengeful human spirit like Ruben involved...

No, the god wouldn’t think about that. They would simply get this done and pull her back before anything irreversible could happen; that was what he and Anpu had agreed on. Upuaut just had to stabilize this section, make it porous, make it _more elastic_ , seal up the larger cracks with some of his and Anpu’s energies...

“This is all I can do to let you safely through during the current state of the barrier. You may proceed however you see fit, although I suggest being within the window if you wish to be heard.” Upuaut said after a few, tense minutes before stepping off to the side of the window where he had been standing the majority of the last session. The other two couldn’t see it, but his palms were now red and raw to the touch.

It wasn’t too much of an issue for Upuaut, so he didn’t feel the need to mention it; even when Anpu sent him a concerned glance the moment his heightened sense of smell detected the scent of lightly burned flesh. Both deities remained silent about it.

Jasmine had closed her eyes at the mention of actually being _in_ the window, taking in a steady breath as she collected and prepared herself for actually leaving the safety of her room. When she felt that she’d done this as best she could in her current state, the girl closed the distance between herself and the window. There really _was_ nothing out there...

She wordlessly scrambled up into the window and swung her legs out in the next moment, trying not to fall backwards. Upuaut placed a hand against Jasmine back to help steady her when she lost balance briefly and was careful to not set his burnt palms against the cloth of her Beacon shirt when he did. Anpu jumped up beside the girl once she was settled, balancing perfectly upon the three inches they had to not to fall off of when compared to how Jasmine kept having to shift to stay in place.

“Ruben?” She called out into the black in search of the ghost she was to be conspiring against Jimenez with while still wobbling a bit. Thankfully, instead of making Jasmine wait and worry about what was going on, that familiar hooded figure flickered into existence about ten feet away from the window.

The amount of sheer relief that bubbled up within Jasmine at seeing Ruben probably wasn’t appropriate, but she just chalked that up to hoping he would keep his end of their deal. It truly felt like he was her only way out.

“I’m sorry it’s taken so long to meet up again; they’ve had me locked up in Beacon since the last session. I’m not quite at the padded suite membership yet, but I think I have to run around naked and stab someone in the face with a crayon for those particular VIP privileges,” Jasmine said before she nearly fell backwards in the window for a second time and gripped the edge of the the sill hard enough that it hurt her fingers. It seemed that she couldn’t escape her fibromyalgia, even in here.

Surprisingly, however, her old barbed wire scar wasn’t acting up this time. Jasmine also noticed at that point that she had begun to go transparent and give off a faint golden glow as she sat there in her window. Anpu was in a similar state of glimmering transparency, though his glow seemed more silver in hue. It looked like little stars were twinkling about the edges of his form.

“The reasons for the delay are of little importance.” Ruben responded to Jasmine with indifference, having spent his time since her last session further setting up his plans. Things were still on the course he had set them on, so all that was left was to instruct the girl seated within the window floating before him in the nothingness.

Although...

Ruben hadn’t expected her to venture past the borders of her mind of her own volition, but it saved him the trouble of luring her into doing so for this session. Perhaps the faded, somewhat watery aspect of her voice had something to do with her current actions. The transparency of her form didn’t go unnoticed either, but he could ponder upon that in further detail later.

Jasmine took note of how Ruben didn’t spare the silent ebony jackal a single glance while he was speaking to her, perhaps not able to see Anpu even as he was then, but it wasn’t an issue for them. The god actually preferred it that way. Less complications to deal with.

“Speaking of here...” Jasmine, keeping her mouth shut about Ruben not noticing Anpu, forced herself to push out of the window with her god still right beside her. While absolutely terrified of heights, a gentle urging from the two gods on her side of things somehow made the fear ebb away enough to actually do so; even if the thought of just endlessly falling was lingering within the back of the girl’s mind.

She stumbled when she landed eight feet down, still partially transparent and looking like a freaking night light, and steadied herself before glancing around at the inky black surrounding them. Thank the gods that it wasn’t all white or she would have been faced with one of the more common nightmares of her childhood. The thought caused her to involuntarily shudder to herself before she looked to the only person who seemed to be the holder of all of the answers she sought. “What _is_ this place? I thought I would be jumping out into the sunflower field...”

Ruben moved closer to Jasmine as the faded, trill aspect to her voice vanished with her now out in his domain.

He began to circle her as he explained in a tone that indicated the utmost simplicity in what he spoke of. “This is an expanse I created between our minds in order to liaise appropriately in our plans. Your brainwaves will have the bare minimum in variances, so the equipment won’t register the difference. You are out here and Mobius is none the wiser.”

“You can _do_ that?” Jasmine asked as her eyes widened. She wasn’t incredulous about what he was telling her, but actually in _awe_ of such an ability. Was STEM what allowed Ruben to have such control, or was his mind so powerful that it just came naturally to him here? Jasmine didn’t know, but the though made gooseflesh raise on her arms. She had to rub them away.

“A space such as this, where even _your_ resistant mind can create whatever is concentrated upon, is mere child’s play with my power,” Ruben replied with an air of the usual arrogance he had about his abilities. There he when with his ego concerning his work, but...

Jasmine let his words sink in and, despite the further implications of him having expected her to actually come out of the window in the first place, there was only one thing that came to mind.

She thought of home. Truly _focused_ upon her memories of the little piece of land that was practically a mini farm at that point in her life. Jasmine concentrated on every little detail with a precision all artists knew.

The cool desert nights with clear skies and a gentle breeze. The faded scent of petrichor hanging in the air. The crisp grass beneath her feet, causing the sides of them to itch faintly in a reaction to the allergy she’d developed to grass when she turned twenty. Crickets serenading the quiet night. Ruffling feathers of chickens and ducks resettling themselves for comfortable sleep. All this, and most especially...

The void pulsed around her feet and expanded outward as Anpu sat at her side. Ruben watched her intently while colors and shapes wavered into existence before becoming solid around them. She was doing surprisingly well for this first time, but he had gone through great lengths to be sure that a mind like hers would be able to accomplish at least _this_ much.

Shades of a moonless night painted everything in a driveway of dirt and grass. A faded purple Ford Explorer was snuggled up between a green cargo box and the fence of the side yard of the property. The air was refreshing with a soft wind dancing about the mammoth sunflowers planted in the side yard and tickling Jasmine’s hair. She breathed in the scent of home, closed her eyes, and turned her head upwards.

When she opened her eyes, the girl felt her throat tighten. She had to swallow the lump that was forming there, unblinking even as the sting of oncoming tears made her gaze hazy.

Above her was the milky way, stretched to the furthest horizon. The sky was so clear and perfect that, even without her glasses, it truly felt like home.

“I never thought that I’d actually see this sight again,” Jasmine whispered sorrowfully, but she didn’t cry. Instead, she turned to where Ruben had stopped a few feet away from her and smiled at him. “This is incredible, Ruben.”

He didn’t respond in words or any expression shift, though his energy seemed to alter faintly in a way Jasmine couldn’t discern properly. Not that she really tried to in that moment as she went back to staring at the stars. She knew that this wasn’t real in the slightest, but it was still nice to see the night sky from her driveway after so long.

 _It might be the last time you do, not that you belong out here to begin with,_ Her darker thoughts murmured. Jasmine merely pushed them away like usual as she got a sudden idea.

“So I can really create _anything_ in this space?” She asked while looking to Ruben again.

He arched a hairless brow from beneath his hood when a twinkle had appeared in those gray-blue hues. It was apparent that Jasmine wasn’t challenging him, and his interest in what she was planning to do was well hidden behind his blank expression. “If you are capable of imagining it clearly enough for an appropriate amount of time, then yes.”

Jasmine bit her bottom lip as she felt a smile starting to form on her lips. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a touch of her old self seemed to burst forth from the ashes of paranoia and despair. She even cast the grin covering her face towards Anpu while she turned and looked up to the stars once more. Now she had both of their attention, and even Upuaut was watching from just within the window.

Concentrating hard, Jasmine stretched an open hand up to the stars. She shifted her right hand down like the tip of a paint brush and the milky way followed her movements as if it had turned into a forest stream that lit up the girl’s gaze.

She swept the dancing stars between both palms, feeling like an Avatar water or fire bender, and moved them around as such while spinning upon the balls of her feet slowly. Jasmine was unable to stop herself from giggling as the pinpricks of light each grew and brightened in color until she was guiding actual flaming stars through the air before her.

Reds, oranges, yellows, whites, and blues; all these blazing stars varied in sizes and lit up the driveway. Jasmine began to spin them on their axes as they twirled in the echoes of her movements, but she didn’t stop there.

Supernovas began to occur, one after the other, explodinginto flowers of all sorts. Roses, sunflowers, lilies, a few saguaro blossoms--all glowing brilliantly seconds before breaking apart into hundreds of little gray moths that fluttered away into the sky. This continued until only one star remained.

It was a blue star, going supernova like all the others as it took the form of a tiny lavender rose; her favorite color of all the roses to exist.

Jasmine’s smile fell away when she saw it and she cupped the delicate bloom within both palms. It didn’t give off the same amount of light all the others had, much smaller in size while flickering as if struggling to stay lit, and the sight brought back all the troubles of reality that weighed heavily upon the girl’s back.

Such a frail little thing this rose was and Jasmine swore that she was looking at herself. It _hurt_.

Ruben was finished with her self-indulging at that point. The ground pulsed beneath his feet before the abyss spread and engulfed them once more. Jasmine let out a small gasp when his influence caused the rose to wilt and turn to dust that slipped through her fingers and into the nothing.

“That’s enough. We have more pressing matters.” Ruben stated while staring the girl dead on. There would be absolutely no more messing about; his hate for those that had done this to him refused to allow it.

“R-right...sorry...” Jasmine muttered the reply with a faint flinch caused by his sharp tone and her own idiocy. She was supposed to be here to get the instructions on how to drop her asshole doctor into his lap; _not_ play around like a little kid. That could wait until she got back home, but she needed to complete their deal in order to do so. Jasmine somehow managed to ask with those things in mind: “So...how am I supposed to give you Jimenez, exactly?”

Ruben spoke as precisely as his mind worked with his experiments, although his tone returned to being as apathetic as ever despite all of the rage boiling just beneath the surface. “It’s simple. Jimenez is planning something, something he doesn’t want Mobius finding out about, but they mostly likely already know.”

“You’re trapped in the system, so how do you...?” Jasmine fell silent when his icy gaze made her feel like she’d just asked the dumbest question in the world. Stupid question or not, however, Ruben was lenient enough to actually answer her.

“I have access to the memories of any and all who come into contact with STEM. It’s easy to see how panicked Jimenez has become since his patients have begun perishing within the machine,” He explained with no concern to the patients he just mentioned had been dying. Jasmine knew what he really meant about their deaths, though.

Even if it might not have been _all_ of the people put under STEM’s influence, Ruben had killed at least _some_ of them. Probably most of them, actually.

There was a purpose behind such a thing, though. The entity before her had a rhyme to his reason, as insane and unethical as such reasons might be. Ruben never made a move without being absolutely sure that he was going to get what he wanted. It was why he was willing to stick to this little agreement of theirs; Jasmine was just another piece in his meticulous plans for whatever he was aiming for now, and she knew it. She would have to honor the victims of the machine somehow once she was out of this clusterfuck.

“No wonder he’s been so flighty lately,” Jasmine spoke up. It was mostly to herself, really, and she had moved back to where Anpu was still seated with his silver gaze pinpointed on the spirit who couldn’t sense him there. The girl couldn’t help but give a single stroke to her god’s head in an attempt to ease him while finishing her current thoughts. “I bet Jimenez feels like he’s been backed into a corner with no way out since his patients in the STEM program have begun dying so suddenly.”

Not to mention the issue with those nurses that had either vanished or become unconscious for unknown amounts of time. Jasmine had only been able to keep tabs on that aspect thanks to gossip between the staff being pretty hot in Beacon; even in the locked ward.

“I’ve made certain of his discomfort.” Ruben had begun to take slow steps in a large circle around Jasmine once more, as to not wander too far from his newest little pawn. It was something he sometimes did as a way to think when he was still alive and even long past his death. Idle repetitive movements while his mind rushed with all of the information he thought upon daily helped. Sometimes.

Jasmine was silent for a moment as she thought back to how Jimenez damn near pissed himself with a mere word from her lips. She had to turn her head to look at Ruben properly while dong so. Well, as properly as she could with his hood hiding most of his face, as it usually did. “People do stupid things when cornered, and Jimenez comes off as being a rather large coward. Are you sure he won’t run away?”

“I’m positive. My creation is far too great an allure to him. As much of a cretin as he remains, Jimenez still considers himself a scientist. His curiosity is going to be the death of him,” Ruben replied. A cruel smile curled at the edges of his scarred lips at the thought of the look Jimenez would have on his face once he saw what had become of STEM. The _fear_ he would feel before his demise.

Jasmine, on the other hand, was having a bit of a moral dilemma with Jimenez dying.

She wasn’t sure if it was bad that she was actually looking _forward_ to the doctor’s death. Unnervingly enough, the thought of Jimenez forever being out of the way was making her feel a guilty sort of happiness and disgust with herself all at once.

Ruben suddenly pausing to cast a dark, knowing smirk towards the girl had her jolting slightly. It was almost as if he’d heard her thoughts, but went back to his predatory pacing the moment he knew she’d seen the look. Jasmine reflexively shivered from the intensity of it; perfect prey behavior.

“There is a STEM machine in the hospital basement that you’ve been hooked into once before,” Ruben stated. It was something he already knew about, so there was no need for it to be asked. Jasmine understood this now.

“I wasn’t jacked into it like the one at the Mobius building they take me to all of the time. The one at Beacon required me to hear a noise with a pair of headphones.” She kept turning her head to keep Ruben in her line of sight as she explained the difference between the two machines.

He nodded, as if expecting this information, and lift one hand that formed a loose fist near his mouth while continuing to move slowly around Jasmine. Ruben almost looked as if he was deeply pondering something, but soon dropped his arm back to his side and finally stopped beside her. “Think about that room in Beacon and the machine within it. Concentrate on every detail that you can recall.”

“I didn’t have my glasses on when I was taken there, though...” Jasmine trailed off. Without her glasses, things were blurry and anything she wasn’t close to wasn’t in enough detail for her to rebuild the room to what Ruben was probably expecting her to. She felt as if she’d failed him already and she hadn’t even _done_ anything.

Jasmine hadn’t even thought to search for a pair of glasses in her room before coming out here...!

 _Pathetic. You are absolutely **pathetic** ,_ her thoughts spat. Thankfully Ruben’s voice was enough to drown out that venomous hatred within her. For now.

“That won’t matter. Concentrate on all that you can remember, be it unfocused or otherwise,” Ruben commanded. It left absolutely no room to think about protesting with an underlying threat of some sort, not that Jasmine was going to talk back. He was the one in control here--the one who had made all of this even possible. No way would she try to debate _that_.

“Okay,” Jasmine inhaled deeply, exhaling slow before she gave a nod once feeling that she was ready, “I’ll try to do my best.”

Closing her eyes, Jasmine thought back to the room nurse Todd had taken her. The tubs, the wires, the grates of the floor painful against the bottom of her feet as she was ushered towards the terminal closest to the door...

The space around her pulsed so strongly that she could feel it, having to keep her thoughts pinpointed on every little detail she could recall of the STEM room in Beacon. Her recollection caused another large pulse before colors and shapes spread out and shot up into existence.

While home was a positive memory for Jasmine, the fact that Beacon was a negative one seemed to make the it all the more powerful within the void Ruben had created. The void he watched shifting and shaping into what Jimenez and Mobius had taken from him.

A perversion of his work; the device Ruben should have been alive to make with his own two hands. How _dare_ they.

Jasmine could sense a shift in Ruben, the sudden surge his lurking anger and loathing, and turned her head to look at him with concern. “Are you okay, Ruben...?” Yes, that was a dumb thing to ask a dead man, but she honestly couldn’t help herself.

“Just focus,” Ruben replied. Her question seemed to help him regain control over himself, but Jasmine’s lack of concentration resulting in the still-forming images to start to dissipate brought him some annoyance.

“Sorry...!” She apologized quickly and got back to the task at hand. It was a good thing that Jasmine was compliant to his wishes or he might have just been done with her at that point.

Another sacrifice for his machine, which is what Mobius had basically intended her to be when they first hooked her up to STEM. Ruben wasn’t sure of what they were hoping to achieve by continuing to plug her in time and time again while she resisted a complete connection. Not that he was going to complain when everything was still falling into place.

Beacon’s STEM prototype was built up around those standing within the once dark expanse in a matter of minutes. Jasmine wasn’t lying when she said that she’d only seen so much and couldn’t help but frown to herself after opening her eyes to see the results of her work.

The terminal was about the only thing that wasn’t blurred. Hell, even the frozen images of the nurses she’d remembered rushing around the room were fuzzy. Except nurse Todd.

 To Jasmine, it wasn’t all that impressive, but to Ruben...

“I expected as much,” He said suddenly. Jasmine jumped with a sharp inhale, thanking the gods that she didn’t yelp. She didn’t have to ask what Ruben meant, either, as he moved away from her and to the center of the STEM room where his brain was suspended in a sphere. “Other than being wireless, this prototype is a replica of the one at the Mobius building. Predictable.”

“Will that make things easier?” Jasmine asked while watching Ruben stop the examination of his own brain and turn to stroll toward the terminal she was put into. She was being sure to stay near Anpu, who was still keeping vigilant eyes on the scarred specter.

“Painfully so. Now come here; I’m going to show you how to activate the wireless STEM. _That_ is how you will bring me Jimenez.” Ruben lift a hand to motion a single finger for her to come with him. To her amazement, her solidified recall of the room was appearing to _unblur_ with each step the hooded male took from the center of the room.

“Sounds simple enough,” Jasmine muttered to herself and trotted over to where Ruben was now waiting at the terminal’s monitor. She could hear the click of nails as Anpu followed close behind her.

“Keep your guard up, my pup. We know not of his capabilities within this place,” The jackal warned lowly. Jasmine gave a muted nod to her god, coming to a stop between Ruben and the terminal’s tub. All Ruben had done to turn the monitor’s screen on was wave his hand in front of it.

Man...if she wasn’t so concerned with wanting to get her instructions, give Jimenez over to Ruben, and get home, Jasmine would have asked to be taught that little trick. Ruben had such control over the littlest things in this place without so much as touching them that it really was an amazing sort of feat to her.

Ruben glanced at her briefly while she thought these things, his expression and emotional status unreadable, and turned his attention back to the screen. Jasmine wasn’t sure how to take that little look. It was the second time he acted as if he’d heard the full extent of what her train of thought.

“Knowing Mobius, they don’t expect anyone outside of their innermost circle to know how to use the machine’s critical functions.” Ruben stared at the screen and the keyboard began to type something into a password screen on its own; purely by his will, “Seeing as this is _my_ creation, built from the blueprints they _stole_ from _my_ safe, I am quite familiar with the inner workings.”

Jasmine looked from the screen to Ruben’s profile. Even though he was the one who had made all of this possible, even if he had experimented on an unfathomable amount of people for his own benefit, she couldn’t keep from feeling sympathetic towards the male standing to her right. His demise didn’t seem fully karmic in nature to her. It was more the result of the greed of another human being. Or many; Jasmine wasn’t sure anymore.

“They really did take everything away from you, didn’t they...?” She found herself asking so softly that it could have been a whisper. Ruben was silent as the keyboard paused briefly in its actions.

“What little I had left, yes,” He replied. The keyboard started typing rapidly once more, breaking through password after password screen. Jasmine was reminded of the dream she had had of him playing the piano and felt that he probably typed on a keyboard just as smoothly as he had the ivory keys in her dream state. It was a shame that she couldn’t see it for herself right then...

Jasmine didn’t know how to respond to his answer, though, and thus found herself settling with keeping quiet. She almost apologized for his situation, actually. Thankfully her mind thought better of it. There was no telling how someone like Ruben would react to something that could be perceived as pity.

At the moment, however, he most likely wouldn't have cared to hear something like that from the girl anyway.

“You will need to follow Jimenez into the basement whenever he decides to put his little plan into to action,” Ruben stated as if she'd never spoken up about everything being torn from him. He must have wanted to get back at Jimenez from the moment of the older male's betrayal, Just the way he always uttered the doctor's name was as if he were speaking of some disease.

“I’m in the locked ward now, though.” Jasmine informed him before she gave a sort of amused snort to herself when she remembered kneeing the one Mobius workers in the groin. “They weren’t too pleased that I managed to get out of the hospital _and_ take down two guys barehanded.”

“You already know how to get the older hospital doors to open if they are locked.” Came the response that made Ruben sound like he was talking to a child. Jasmine could only blink at this, though not from his tone.

Because, _fuck_ , he was right.

If a previous dream Jasmine had was still as accurate as it proved to be on certain occasions, then all one had to do to the locked old doors was jiggle them enough and the damn thing would pop open. But how did Ruben know a detail like that if her mind was still so resistant to the machine? She didn’t recall telling him anything involving the doors, so he shouldn’t have known that she _had_ that kind of information.

“Knowing their usual choice of functionality as well as I have the misfortune to, all of the pass codes will be required before one can activate the main boot up," Ruben continued, "Once Jimenez has done that, then activating the wireless pulse before he is able to is all that you will need to do. I’ll show you how."

Jasmine gave a nod to show that she understood the instructions since they were simple enough for her. When Ruben moved away from the computer and to the control panel at the head of the terminal bathtub, she followed close behind.

“I designed the wireless system to make it appear that the computer is the only way to truly activate it, but the control panels of every terminalare able to manually override the computer’s need for completing the unnecessary sequences Mobius has a habit of putting into place.” Ruben explained without bothering to make sure that Jasmine was trailing after him.

So she just had to memorize the manual override and trigger it before Jimenez did? That shouldn’t be too hard to do...

If Jasmine was able to remember what Ruben was about to show her, that is.

“Pay close attention,” Ruben instructed when they were both standing at the controls. Jasmine didn’t remember ever getting as clear a look at any of these things as this one appeared to her. Not to mention it was only a passing glance at the _Mobius_ building STEM when she was walking away from Ruben’s brain the first time she saw it.

The two machines were identical, so perhaps that was all it took. Jasmine simply had to give Ruben the building blocks of the room and he must have solidified it from the memories of his own blueprints.

Shaking those thoughts from her head, Jasmine focused on Ruben’s hands as he adjusted the largerknobs on the console while he explained: “Jimenez will need to have a subject within the terminal in order for the system to function properly. Entering this sequence when they are within the conduit basin will activate all of STEM.”

“Alright,” Jasmine said while trying to ignore the churning in her stomach at the mention of Jimenez using another one of his patients. She _had_ to remember how to activate the wireless STEM and began to repeat what she’d seen, “Set that knob there to full, adjust these two smaller ones to a quarter on the left and half way on the right, and...can I see that last part again?”

Ruben wordlessly repeated the manual override sequence not once, but twice. Slow, steady, _precise_.

Jasmine didn’t let a single detail of his movements escape her attention as he did this. It was easy if she repeated the steps in her thoughts like it was a part of one of her silly pieces of writing back home, but this wasn’t home, and it was far from silly. Her future depended on committing every aspect of this moment to memory.

Anpu was watching the two mortal essences even more intently, though his gaze was that of unease. Jasmine hadn’t noticed what he and Upuaut had.

There was no doubt that Ruben was aware of the issue that had the god wanting to grab his child and fling her consciousness back into the safety of her guarded mind. It was the dead man that was causing her decreasingly transparent form to solidify in vulnerability outside of the barrier of her mind just from being near the girl, after all.

Yet it was perhaps Ruben’s behavior towards Jasmine’s willingness and docility that was the most unnerving to Anpu.

The impression given when looking at them from mere outward appearance? How Ruben was instructing Jasmine didn’t at all come off as a young woman being taught how to activate a machine capable of killing people, all just to bring this spirit what he wanted. Ruben didn’t _look_ like a sadistic murderer molded from hatred and despaired desire as he interacted with Jasmine.

While that almost calm indifference may have been due to a mutual goal in that current moment of time, however, it still didn’t mean that Jasmine would be safe from Ruben’s cruelties. _T_ _hat_ was the cause for Anpu’s heightening apprehension.

The god couldn’t clearly recall the last time he’d ever felt such a state of disquiet.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it memorized now,” Jasmine spoke up after Ruben’s hand pulled away from the control panel. He turned to peer at her from beneath his hood, her gaze lifting to do the same. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she marvelled at how his appearance didn’t frighten her in some way.

If it wasn’t for those little details she held onto, such as him killing for his science, then Jasmine would have thought him to be a regular guy that had been in some kind of accident. Too bad any kind of ‘normal’ hadn’t been an option in life for the man that stood beside her. Not with all of the shit he went through, and she probably didn’t even know the half of it with all of the details missing from her knowledge of his background.

“If you truly believe that you’ve memorized the sequence, then replicate the actions you just saw.” Ruben’s voice snapped her attention back entirely. Jasmine gave a firm nod and moved to repeat the actions she was trying so hard to burn into her memory.

Ruben seemed unimpressed at the attempt. “Again.”

Jasmine did it a second time, as instructed, but his expression never changed.

“ _Again,_ ” Ruben commanded, and the girl wordlessly complied. This went on for some time before he exhaled in a way that drew Jasmine’s focus away from the panel. She’d been working on it so long that her fingers were actually starting to ache a bit. Not that he cared while he hummed to himself in thought. “Hm. Good enough, I suppose.”

Not really a compliment but, hey, Jasmine was going to take it anyway.

Turning his gaze back to her face, Ruben gave more details as to what turning the wireless STEM on was going to do. Jasmine was going to ask at some point anyway, so he was simply skipping the potential tediousness of her curiosity. “Once activated, everyone that hears the signal will be pulled into STEM. This includes you.”

“Ugh, gods damn it all...!” Jasmine frowned as she grumbled to herself. It seemed that this machine wasn’t done with her yet, and that made her almost shiver in her unease. Shaking her head a second later, the girl huffed softly. “Small price to pay, I guess...”

“Remember your task and it will be,” Ruben replied as he turned away from Jasmine and took a few steps. She appeared to have memorized the manual override sequence well enough that his mind could wander to other little details of his plans for her.

Jasmine was continuously being taken to Mobius headquarters to be tested, and that presented an issue. It was a minor one, but Ruben wouldn’t risk any mistakes. _He_ was in control here, not _them_ , so something had to be done to keep the girl where he would need her to be. Ah, but how would he go about that one...

A silence had fallen over the area, causing Jasmine to shift uneasily. Her attention never left Ruben’s figure.

She didn’t know why, but she wanted to reach out and touch that lonesome back just to feel that he was there. She _needed_ to; if only for a moment.

“Jasmine, stop!” Anpu shouted and stood as the girl began tentatively stepping closer and lifting her right hand, reaching for the dirty cloth of Ruben’s hooded jacket. Jasmine let out a sharp gasp a second later when her wrist was swept up in a vice grip and those cold grey eyes were bearing down upon her as she found Ruben facing her once more. His skin was absolutely freezing to the touch.

Other than a flinch from the pain his grip was causing at her wrist, Jasmine didn’t move to get away from the icy touch and held her other hand out near her thigh to show an anxious Anpu that he didn’t need to step in yet. She kind of did this to herself, really, and angering someone like Ruben probably wasn’t the best of ideas.

Still, in the silence hanging heavy between them, the girl couldn’t help but suddenly wonder about something quite strange. Ruben was holding her right wrist firmly in place, but if Jasmine were to touch him like she did with the creature created from the guilt towards a lost sister...

What would happen? Would she feel emotions flood into her as he returned to how he was supposed to be? Was that even a _thing_ , or was it simply her imagination running wild at a time like this? There was honestly no telling. The thought wouldn’t leave her mind, though; not even as Ruben slowly cocked his head to study her as if he was trying to find something.

The moment the memory of her encounter with the nightmare version of Laura flashed through Jasmine’s mind, however, his gaze snapped to her right hand with a sudden air of irritated caution. This threw her off a bit.

Did he...no, _had_ Ruben been reading her thoughts this entire time? Had he just seen the memory as she did? That possibility was pretty unsettling to Jasmine--true or not.

Ruben’s caution was superseded by interest as he continued to inspect the blonde’s smaller hand. Being as he was, he clearly wanted to understand the workings behind the glimpses that he had, in fact, received from the girl’s memories.

His hand slipped up while a scarred thumb pressed Jasmine’s fingers apart to inspect each one with surgical precision. The girl could only watch, almost entranced once again by his attention to detail despite how she was still glowing and faintly transparent. She didn’t dare move a muscle on her own accord, though. It was safer that way and Ruben was pleased that someone was smart enough to detect this only after three encounters with him.

Not many people were still alive at that point.

Taking in every inch of the living flesh in his grasp, Ruben could see the torn cuticles of someone who worked with their hands. They were much like the cuticles of the servants his parents had hired to clean the mansion and tend the property, but that wasn’t all. On the side of the first knuckled of her middle finger, there was an obvious callous sticking up in a bump.

The mark of someone who wrote or drew traditionally. Marks of one who held their tools between the first two digits and thumb of their dominant hand for many years. Ruben had such callouses as well, though his were from his time with his scalpels, bone saws, and large pins.

All of these things were processed within the male’s mind in the fraction of a second. His true purpose for touching the hand in such a way occurred just as quickly as his observations.

Jasmine swore that she could detect the horridly dark scars at his fingers begin to lighten in hue and even _recede_ from where the tips had pressed her own digits apart, but Ruben returned to holding her wrist before she could confirm the sighting through her hand. She didn’t feel safe asking about it either. After all, she could just be hallucinating in here. Human minds were volatile things to begin with and hers was a ticking time bomb all of the time.

Ruben stepped closer suddenly, grey eyes finding blue in that pale moon of a face. Jasmine wasn’t sure if she should be trying to run at that point; not when he was so hard to read. The man could want to kiss or kill her and she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

“What a curious little thing you are,” Ruben finally uttered. His head slowly tilt to one side as if he still quite curious about something, but that apathetic expression of his had returned. Jasmine couldn’t read him like this.

“What do you mean...?” She dared to whisper the question. Jasmine was cautious of what he might do, but not actually _afraid_. Strange, not really fearing a man who was holding her with a hand that had taken at least one life.

“What indeed,” He replied while still staring her down. Ruben could sense a lack of fear towards him, something he wasn’t used to inside of STEM. It made him wonder just what made her feel that way. A part of Ruben wanted to pick apart her brain, yet he refrained from that for the time being and pulled her closer from the grasp he still had around her wrist. “We shall find out soon enough.”

“W--” Jasmine began to form some sort of complaint to the cryptic words, only to be cut off by Ruben’s left hand shooting out to clamp down upon her head. It was like an electric storm exploded within her mind at the contact and all she could think to do was scream from the pain it was searing across her entire being.

Anpu shouted out for her and lunged with the intent to grab his child, having shifted into his usual form in order to do so more effectively, but it was already too late.

A thousand burning suns exploded behind her eyelids as they tangoed with a cornucopia of anguish. Agony of what seemed like millions screeched along the plains of insanity. The labyrinth of Jasmine nerves sang out with unimaginable torment, slicing into her a thousand times over with such magnificent cruelty. It was blinding to the point that she almost lost herself--

\--Until her lungs expanded sharply and Jasmine shot upward in a violent coughing fit.

Jasmine didn’t get far, quickly finding herself leaning over the side of the tub as she expelled all of the contents of her stomach in great lurches. There was a sharp metallic tang dancing along the back of her tongue. It was one she recognized as the taste of blood, barely able to feel something warm trailing down her upper lip.

Her unfocused gaze caught hints of red dripping to the floor with her own vomit before the line of her vision wavered and blurred further than what just being without glasses caused. Something was terribly, _terribly_ wrong.

She couldn’t see straight, couldn’t understand the words that had begun falling from her lips in rapid succession, couldn’t will her limbs to move how she needed them. All of this was becoming apparent while the only thing Jasmine could hear was her own panic and the ringing that shrieked deep within in her skull. It wasn’t hard for the girl to see that she wasn’t in control of her body anymore; not with whatever Ruben had done to her. His actions must have triggered her most violent exit from STEM yet.

A hysterical wail tore from the Jasmine’s throat in response to the revelation that her state of severe physical debilitation wasn’t going away. The blood once dripping from her nose was now oozing out of her mouth and suggested that her current state was most likely worsening.

Was she... _dying_...?

Showing no resistance as she was rolled onto her back within the tub, Jasmine couldn’t help but think such a thing. The taste of her own blood was so heavy that it might as well have been drowning her, and with her hereditary clotting disorder? She might loose too much blood if the vitamin k wasn’t abundant enough within her body at that very moment. Jasmine honestly didn’t know if it was or not.

She didn’t know much of _anything_ anymore.

Jasmine could feel herself becoming cold, even within the tub’s warm water, and her chest was beginning to burn. Hands were lifting her onto something more solid before they began pressing her sternum down in a strange rhythm. Something had been slid over Jasmine’s nose and trembling mouth, pumping air that the girl couldn’t seem to inhale.

Was she breathing? No, it didn’t seem like she was. Maybe this really _was_ the end for this life after all...

Fuck, this wasn’t how Jasmine thought that she would die...! She didn’t _want_ this!

“Distress to your heart’s content, but you really have no need for concern,” The call of vengeance personified cut through the ringing in Jasmine’s ears. She couldn’t see him in the state she was in, but his voice was all that she could hear now. “I won’t let you die. Not yet. This is simply a necessity, after all.”

Chest heaving, Jasmine gurgled an attempt to cry out to Ruben. She wanted to know why he’d done this to her, but the crimson foam filling her mouth and a lack of actual oxygen in her lungs made it impossible. She could only feel cold fingers graze across the expanse of her forehead, reeling at how her brain all but howled as red hot torment shot across both frontal lobes again. The hand slipped down to grasp her chin in a bruising hold.

Such a bitter touch, an exquisite caress of fury that could take down armies, but it didn’t feel _normal_. How could it with such a creature involved? Ruben’s icy talons never graced the surface of her now pallid flesh like this. No...no, this felt as if the touch was coming from _beneath_ her skin.

There was no breath on Jasmine’s ear even when it seemed like Ruben’s lips were _right against it_ , right _within_ it, while he spoke in such low, threatening tones: “Just be a good girl and continue to do as you’re told. So long as you remember to do your job when the time comes, you’ll survive.”

His words, that deliciously dark tone, danced along her dulling senses. It elicited a body-wide trembling right before Jasmine finally succumbed to the attack upon her being. She slipped into unconsciousness for what might truly be the last time.

“Oh, god, not again...!” Jimenez muttered to himself when he realized the exact extent of the unexpected damage caused to his patient. Chest compressions weren’t going to be enough to get Jasmine to start breathing again in a state like this, causing him to begin shouting orders. “Quickly; we need to intubate her!”

The Mobius nurses rushed to do just that, propping and angling Jasmine’s head up on a pillow. The intubation tray was rushed over and Jimenez grabbed the laryngoscope as he got to work on trying to save his patient’s life.

“What happened, Jimenez!?” Myra demanded as she ran into the room. She’d placed Donnie on a chair at the foot of the tub before being called out of the room to deal with something else. That had only been ten minutes ago, so her shock at the alarms blaring from the only active terminal was understandable.

Watching a endotracheal tube be lubed and handed to Jimenez as he stood at the head of the gurney holding Jasmine’s still form didn’t help Myra’s nerves. The younger woman was in danger, and with how much the Administrator was invested in this particular case...

None of this was good.

“Her mind made contact with the system, albeit only for a moment,” Jimenez explained to the approaching agent as he proceeded to slip the tube into the girl’s throat before attaching it to a bag-valved ventilator and pumping it. “And now it’s killing her.”

“You had hope that it doesn’t, doctor, because your patients dying will be the __least_ _ of your problems.” The threat within Myra's tone and narrowed gaze wasn't hindered in the slightest. She wasn't talking about getting the Administrator involved in this, and Jimenez wasn't sure if that was actually __worse.__

Still, he refused to back down in the face of a simple _agent_ when a patient's life was in the balance. He levelled Myra with his own glare. “Then I suggest you back off and __let me do my job__ _._ ”

“If you had __been_ _ doing your job, then none of this would have happened,” Myra shot back. The two were borderline seething at one another, though their little stare-off had no time to go anywhere further than just that.

“Her pulse is weakening, doctor,” A nurse stated as he alerted Jimenez to more than just a breathing problem.

“We’re moving her to the infirmary wing,” Jimenez said before they all but shoved Myra out of the way in order to start pushing the gurney out of the room. His one free hand was still pumping the bag of the ventilator.

Myra could only watch in silence as they faded down the hall and into an elevator. Sighing softly, she picked the lone teddy bear up from the chair she’d previously placed it upon and left to inform the Administrator of what had just occurred. He wasn’t going to be happy about this, but that would make it easier to move behind the scenes should the opportunity present itself.

There was no telling how long it took Jimenez to get Jasmine to a state where he was certain that she wasn’t going to die. He hadn’t bothered looking at a clock out of pure exhaustion.

His patient’s state wasn’t entirely stable when they decided to stop working on her, but it was better than the alternative. Jasmine was showing gradual signs of improvement, even as Jimenez was leaning back against the room’s sink. It was progress. Unfortunately, a different issue had presented itself in hopes of her recovery.

“Will she live?” The Administrator asked, though it was really more of a demand after what had transpired during the STEM session that day. His gaze was trained upon the doctor while they stood on opposite sides of the bed where Jasmine’s unconscious form was tucked in. The tube was still in place, although it was hooked up to a ventilating machine now. In another hour or two, she might not need it anymore.

“...Perhaps.” Jimenez hesitated in his reply. He was staring at the nearly motionless body lain out before him, his mind racing for the answers he didn’t have.

The Administrator’s already present frown only deepened while he glowered at Jimenez. “‘Perhaps’ isn’t good enough, doctor. Is the girl going to live, or is keeping her on these machines a waste of our time _and_ money?”

“I’m not _certain_ yet. We finally achieved a solid connection to form between her and STEM for the briefest of moments, but coming into contact with the system appears to have been too much for her mind to bear,” Jimenez tried to explain it in a way his employer could understand. “She almost died as a result and is now in a comatose state, but she doesn’t exhibit the same brain waves that the other survivors do. Their minds are still somehow _linked_ to the machine, but hers is not.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” The Administrator was losing his patience much more quickly than he usually did. Jimenez didn’t like that fact, as it made his frazzled nerves only fray more.

The doctor released a heavy sigh as he tried to keep a calm exterior. “I believe that Miss Summers will survive this, yes, but there is no telling when she will awaken again. It could be hours, days, or years. However, even then...”

“Even then?” The Administrator continued to press for answers. It was no secret to Jimenez that the man on the other side of the gurney thought of Jasmine as his personal pet project when it came to her involvement with STEM. It was what made him so irritable at the unexpected turn of events.

“She may not ever be the same when she does. There are too many unknown aspects involving her particular anomaly and how she’s been able to pick up so many traits of previous patients without being directly connected like they were.” Jimenez pushed up from the sink he’d previously been reclining against. “If we just had the time to properly study her, perhaps we could use her unique condition to find a way _around_ the current system host--”

“--Then you’d best hope that she wakes up _soon_ so that you can continue working on that.” The Administrator firmly cut him off. He had his own plans for the young woman, and this little setback wasn’t going to stop that. “We’ll keep her under observation here until she’s completely stabilized. Then you may take her back to Beacon, and when she wakes up? We’ll see how she reacts to coming into contact with Ruvik’s mind with the prototype. Provided that you can force her to connect with him again, that is.”

The doctor gave a slow, but obedient, nod despite how he was feeling internally. “Yes. Of...of course.”

However, Jimenez wasn’t keeping his hopes up when it came to the young woman unconscious before him. No, he would stick to his original plan.

After all, _Leslie_ was the true key to STEM, and Jimenez was running out of time.


End file.
